Snotlout's Bride
by Cke1st
Summary: It's Snotlout's turn to find a wife. He has high standards, but to his amazement, he gets the girl he deserves. Hoo-boy, does he ever! Will either of them survive the experience? This is a sequel to "Hiccup's Bride," and you should read that story first if you haven't read it already. Snotlout xOC, with bits of Hiccstrid. Rated T for adult themes; the language is all K.
1. Chapter 1

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 1

_A/N  
>It's Snotlout's turn to find a wife. He has high standards, but to his amazement, he gets the girl he deserves. Hoo-boy, does he ever! Will either of them survive the experience? This is a sequel to "Hiccup's Bride," and you should read that story first if you haven't read it already. Snotlout xOC, bits of Hiccstrid. Rated T for adult themes; the language is all K.<em>

_This story's predecessor, "Hiccup's Bride," was a story idea that got into my brain and gave me no rest until I'd written it. This tale is the total opposite – it's a mostly harmless little fluff piece that I wrote purely for the fun of it. This won't be my most popular story, seeing how Hiccup isn't the star (although he and Astrid play important supporting roles), but that's okay. I owe a "thank you" to Haganeochibi for the e-mail exchange that gave me the idea for this story._

**o**

Almost everyone in Berk rejoiced at the marriage of Hiccup and Astrid. The Vikings wanted their local hero to be happy, and they'd all expected him to marry her in the first place. His politically-motivated marriage to Thora of the Meatheads had taken them all by surprise, and even though they understood the reasons for it, the Hoffersons weren't the only ones who were shocked by that turn of events. They'd grown to love Thora anyway, and grieved at her loss, but now that Hiccup and Astrid were together for keeps, there was an unspoken sense of "This is how things were supposed to turn out. Now everything is good."

One of the very few people who didn't rejoice at that marriage was Snotlout. He'd thought Hiccup was out of the picture and Astrid was his for the taking. She'd never gotten the message and continued to cherish her connection to Hiccup, even though he was married to someone else. Against all odds, she'd gotten her heart's desire, and now _she_ was out of the picture. That left Snotlout without many options.

"You're better off without that one," his father Spitelout said off-handedly. "Maybe she wasn't really shamed this time, but it's just a matter of time before she breaks the rules again. I know the type. I almost married one like that, but my mother saw trouble at the last minute and talked my father out of making the marriage contract."

"How do women do that?" Snotlout asked. "I mean, they don't have any good reason to see trouble, but they see it anyway, and they're usually right."

"Nobody knows," his father answered, "except for the women, and they won't tell us. 'I can't explain it,' they always say. Don't worry, son. You'll get your chance to figure these things out first-hand once you find your own wife."

"But who, Dad? Astrid is the only girl on this island who's good enough for me. You don't expect me to settle for Ruffnut, do you?"

"No, of course not," Spitelout replied patiently. "There are other Viking tribes on other islands, and there are sure to be a few girls in those tribes who are good enough for a chief's nephew, and more importantly, good enough for a Jorgenson. The Thing is due to meet in a few months, and Stoick has asked me to go with him this time. Suppose you come along with me, and check out all the chiefs' daughters who will be there? We'll find you a bride who will put Astrid to shame, and everyone will know who's the _real_ man among the teens on this island. What do you think?"

Snotlout smiled. It wasn't his usual smirk, but a sincere smile of hope. "I'll be there, Dad."

**o**

The Thing was the annual meeting of all the Viking chiefs in the area. It was a week-long chance to negotiate peace treaties, settle grievances, look for trade partners, and work out any other issues that came up when tribes full of belligerent, acquisitive Norsemen came into contact with each other during the year. It was a festive occasion; the chiefs would bring special decorations for their tents and put on a show for the other chiefs. Everyone tried to appear more prosperous than his neighbor.

Over the years, the chiefs had come to include their daughters and nieces among their decorations. A man's daughter could become a source of great prestige to the right husband (and great wealth to the girl's father). The chiefs turned their tents into pavilions where their unmarried daughters could cook, sew, spin, and pursue other useful crafts to show everyone what fine wives they could be. The Thing took on the secondary function of a singles market for chiefs, successful warriors, and prosperous traders who were looking for high-quality brides for their sons. The daughters didn't protest, for the most part. They knew that the Thing was their only chance of meeting the finest young men in the Northland. If a young lady did object to being put on display like a piece of meat in a butcher shop, her father would remind her of Alwilda, the girl who deliberately burned the food she was cooking because she didn't like the looks of any of the young men she saw. Her father had betrothed her to a coal-digger's son to teach her a lesson. (Nobody ever told them that Alwilda wound up very happy with her coal-digging husband. It spoiled the effect of the story.)

This year, it was the Visithug tribe's turn to host the Thing. Colorful longships from all over the Barbaric Archipelago converged on their island, overfilling the harbor and forcing the latecomers to ground their ships on whatever rocky beach they could find. The fields outside the Visithug capital of Wreckopolis blossomed with the fancy tents of the wealthy men and the more humble tents of the daughters. Men walked the paths between tents, searching for traders who owed them money or chiefs with whom they had to resolve a border dispute. Their sons walked close behind them, checking out the pretty girls and sniffing their cooking as they walked by. Most of the girls kept their eyes on what they were doing. There was no reason for them to look at the boys anyway. If a boy liked the looks of a girl, he'd mention her to his father, and the fathers would arrange the marriage contract. The girl would have little or nothing to say about it.

Spitelout was one of those fathers, and Snotlout was one of those boys. Stoick had many contacts among the chiefs that needed renewing, a few treaties that needed signing, and at least one possibly hostile neighbor who needed pacifying; he didn't think he could do it all in a week. He brought his second-in-command along to take care of the routine business of the Thing. Spitelout brought his son along to take care of the non-routine business of finding himself a wife.

But how to choose? Snotlout felt like he'd somehow gone to Valhalla – he had never seen so many girls his own age in one place! And they were all there to make themselves appealing to boys like him. Not all of them would be on his list, of course. The high-ranking chiefs would never settle for a minor chief's nephew for their daughters, no matter how rich the bride-price offer might be. That kind of girl would cost most men several years' worth of their income. Only the most wealthy and prestigious men could hope to land a catch like that for their sons. But Snotlout had a secret weapon in negotiations like those. Let the other young men boast about their flocks and their herds and their battle trophies. He was the only boy on the island who rode a Monstrous Nightmare!

"Go ahead and wander around, son," Spitelout told him. "I have nothing to do until the chiefs gather to hear the Law-Speaker after lunch, so if you stick with me, you'll see nothing. Besides, there are a _lot_ of young men here this year. The competition for pretty girls is going to be intense. Find out who's in the market, and don't be too slow about it, or you could miss out on somebody really special."

"You got it, Dad! But how do I know a good one from a bad one?"

Spitelout smiled. "I'm glad you asked me that. Remember, no matter how pretty a girl is today, she's going to be plump and wrinkly in forty years. But if she's a good cook and a good housekeeper today, she'll do a good job for the rest of your life, no matter what she looks like. Pick one who can make you happy even if your eyes are closed. And don't forget that you're a Jorgenson, and you're picking someone who's going to become a Jorgenson beside you. Look for a girl who can uphold our family reputation!"

"Okay, Dad." Snotlout nodded and set out through the maze of tents and pavilions in search of someone to spend his life with.

Regardless of what his father said, he was determined to find a girl who looked good. After all, he'd have to look at her every day for as long as he lived! But Dad was surely right about the cooking and cleaning part, too. He didn't care much about cleaning, but he knew that other people did care. It was possible that something bad might happen to Hiccup and leave him, Snotlout, the heir to the tribe. If that happened, he'd want to make a good impression on people when he made his bid for the chieftainship, and a house that looked like a disaster area wouldn't do the job. As for cooking, that was a no-brainer – like most men, he liked to eat. A wife who couldn't feed her husband properly didn't deserve to be married to anyone, and certainly not to him.

Upholding his family reputation meant she had to be a fighter. A girl like that might not be so easy to find. Sure, there were plenty of warrior maidens among the Vikings, particularly in the smaller tribes that couldn't provide enough male warriors to protect their lands against raiders. But a fighter who was also pretty… that was an unusual combination. Astrid was the only girl he'd ever known who could measure up to that standard. From what he'd heard, she was a lousy cook, though. He was looking for a girl who combined the vital trio of good looks, good domestic skills, and good warrior potential. Most of the other boys would be looking for a similar combination. There couldn't be too many of those girls sitting around, waiting for the perfect husband to find them. He needed to get started.

The first girl he passed was certainly pretty enough, but she was trying to sew a tunic, and she was having trouble threading her needle. That suggested that sewing wasn't something she did all the time. He certainly wasn't going to mend his own clothes if he tore them! He kept walking.

The second girl was working a small loom to make colorful fabric; it looked like she was weaving a baldric for her father's sword. That was an unusual skill, and she seemed to be very good at what she was doing. But she glanced at him as she worked, and he realized that her face could stop an hourglass. He'd keep her in mind, but he kept walking.

The third girl… he saw her jet-black hair pulled up in a side-braid from fifty feet away. Could it be her? He almost broke into a run, but kept himself under control. It wouldn't look good if he seemed too eager. That would only encourage her father to jack up her bride-price. But yes, it was her.

"Well, hel-_lo,_ Heather!" he beamed. He hadn't seen the object of his attention in well over a year, but she still looked great to him. She was preparing some kind of meal as he watched.

"Hi, Snotlout," she said in a half-friendly tone. Well, at least she remembered him.

"I admit I'm surprised to see you here among all these chiefs and conquerors," he said, hoping to get a conversation started.

"I'm kind of amazed myself," she nodded as she sprinkled some herbs into her kettle. "My family's fortunes were never that great, but they've finally turned around. When we got home after our little adventure with you, my dad made some trade deals with the Outcasts."

"The _Outcasts!?_" Snotlout burst out. "They're the biggest cheats in the Archipelago! Nobody in his right mind trades with them."

"That was their reputation," she said, "and it was killing them. Like you said, nobody wanted to trade with them, and on that barren island of theirs, they _needed_ trade or they'd starve. My dad thought it was worth taking a chance. He's taken lots of chances in his life, but this one actually paid off. Now the Outcasts are dealing with us, and dealing fairly for the most part, and as for my family… well, we aren't exactly wealthy, but I don't have to wear clothes with patches on them anymore." Indeed, her forest-green robe was well-made and embroidered with fire-breathing dragons on each sleeve. No chief's daughter could have worn a fancier garment, or looked as good in it.

"What'cha cooking?" he inquired.

"Redfish," she replied. "It's one of my specialties. Crunchy redfish over greens." She reached down, pulled a red-colored fish out of a basket, and skilfully began preparing it for the kettle. Snotlout watched in silence until she dropped it in the water.

"Uhh, you didn't take the bones out," he observed hesitantly.

Heather rolled her eyes. "If I took the _bones_ out, it wouldn't be _crunchy,_ would it? You just don't _think,_ Snotlout!"

Snotlout felt his stomach take a sudden lurch to the right. "Maybe I'll come back later and see how it turned out." Without waiting for her answer, he turned on his heel and strode away. Even Astrid's yak-nog wasn't as bad as that. Heather might be the second-prettiest girl in the Northland, but if that was typical of her cooking… ugh! A guy had to have standards, after all.

Behind him, Heather smiled and removed the bony fish from the kettle with wooden tongs. Then she pulled another fish from her basket, already prepared and with the bones removed, and dropped it in the steaming water. She'd take her chances with the Alwilda treatment. She knew she was here to find a husband, but Snotlout… ugh! A girl had to have standards, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 2

Snotlout continued up and down the rows of tents, checking out every eligible girl he could see. He passed a few other boys his age who were doing the same thing. If they were shorter than him, he would glare down at them threateningly; if they were taller, he'd decline to make eye contact. They were competing with him for the best girls, and he wasn't here to make friends.

Every girl he saw had something significantly wrong with her. This one couldn't possibly be a warrior because she had no arm muscles; that one was trying and failing to hide the black smoke that was pouring off the meal she'd tried to cook for her father; another one was so overweight, he could have taken cover behind her in battle. He was getting discouraged until he got to the eastern side of the camping area.

An unusually showy-looking tent was surrounded by an awning on all four sides. Comfortable-looking portable furniture was set up there; whoever owned this tent really knew how to travel. There was no sign of that owner, though. The only person under the awning was a girl who looked to be about sixteen.

She was slightly plump and very appealing. Her face was quite pretty, with lively blue eyes, an upturned nose, and full red lips, and was framed by thick golden hair done up in two fat braids that fell to her hips. She was threading tiny colorful beads onto strings, and weaving those strings together into a small circle about two inches across. He noticed that she already had several such discs in her hair; they were attached to some kind of metal clasps that clipped onto her braids. It made a rather pretty effect.

He looked over her shoulder. "I've never seen anything like that," he observed.

She glanced up at him, startled. "It's a simple little art my mother learned from a traveling peddler," she said in a firm but melodic voice. "I do this when I need to relax."

He nodded. "What are you relaxing from?"

"Axe-throwing practice." She flexed a bicep. She wasn't built like a man (not even close!), but he could readily believe that she could fling a full-sized axe and fling it well.

He smiled his most winning smile. "I'm Snotlout, son of Spitelout, second in line to the chieftainship of my tribe. My friends call me 'awesome'."

She grinned, but he couldn't tell if her grin was sincere or a mockery of his own. "I'm Sukiaqui, daughter of Bertha, second in line to the chieftainship of _my_ tribe. My friends call me Su."

_Bertha!_ Snotlout felt a chill. He was courting a _Bog-Burglar!_

Every traditional Viking knew about the Bog-Burglars, a tribe ruled and run by women. Men were second-class citizens there, and were looked down on as inferior; the main reason men were even allowed on Bog-Burglar Island was that they were necessary for making more Bog-Burglars. The women were undefeated in the few battles they'd gotten into, and they were known for their fearlessness and their cleverness, especially when it came to taking things that didn't belong to them. Common wisdom said that if someone stole something from you, and you knew it was a Bog-Burglar who took it, that meant the Bog-Burglar was getting sloppy.

His father had warned him about them. "The last girl you _ever_ want to get involved with is a Bog-Burglar, son. She'll want to run the house, the marriage, and your entire life. That's no way for a Jorgenson to live! Pick a nice, meek, submissive girl from some other tribe – _any_ other tribe! I'd rather see you pick a runaway slave girl than a Bog-Burglar."

She saw his expression change. "What's the matter? Do you think I'm too strong for you?"

He couldn't ignore a challenge like that, no matter what his father said about it. "No, I think I could beat you in a wrestling match if I had to."

Now her smile was genuine. "Want to find out?"

"Uhh, no… beating up girls isn't why I'm here."

Her smile faded. "No, you're here to find out if I'd make a suitable wife for you, just like all the other boys. Well, I'd make one heck of a suitable wife! I look okay, I cook okay, I fight just fine, I've got everything that boys want in a girl… but as soon as you guys find out what tribe I'm from, you take off like your pants were on fire! I'm _sick_ of that kind of treatment!" She dropped her beadwork and stood up, and grabbed his shoulders hard enough that it hurt. "You listen to me, Snotlout son of Spitlout, or whatever your father's name is. You're not the only one who's expecting to find a marriage partner in this Thing. I'll never be the chief while my older sister Camicazi is alive, so the best I can hope for is to marry somebody powerful and good-looking. Somebody like you, maybe? You can't deny I've got what a boy like you is looking for."

She was right; she seemed to have it all, except for the tribe she belonged to. He was in a total quandary. "Well, uhh, I'm just not used to a woman who's so strong-willed."

She shook her head. "You're a Viking! Are you trying to tell me you've never dealt with strong-willed people before?"

"Well, I deal with a Monstrous Nightmare all the time, and he's pretty –"

"A Monstrous Nightmare?" she interrupted, impressed. "You mean you've killed one of those?"

"No, I mean I ride one of those every day, and he does what I tell him to do." _Some of the time,_ he added mentally.

She snorted and let go of his shoulders, which was a relief. "Yeah, right! I suppose you can beat _him_ in a wrestling match, too! Look – I'm not in the mood for stupid games. You've got what I want, I've got what you want, and you've paid me more attention than any of the other boys here. How about we make a contract?"

She had just proposed marriage to him. "Uhh… uhh… I think our fathers are supposed to make that decision, aren't they?"

She laughed out loud. It was a pleasant laugh, even though her intentions scared him. "Our fathers? _My_ father can hardly decide what to wear in the morning without Mom's help! It's the women who should settle these things. I'm sure my mother is around here somewhere."

"Gee, it's a shame that _my_ mother didn't join us on this trip. So I guess we can't arrange anything. Too bad, huh?" Before she could grab his shoulders again, he turned and ran like his pants were on fire, just like she'd said.

She watched him escape. She sighed heavily. Then she set her jaw firmly. "No," she said out loud to no one. "I've had enough of this treatment. _That_ one is _not_ getting away from me."

**o**

"So how did it go today, son?" Spitelout asked as they chewed their dinner. They hadn't brought any women with them to handle the domestic chores, and neither of them knew how to cook. But there were plenty of obliging Visithug housewives nearby who were willing to accept a few coppers in exchange for a platter of leftovers, so nobody would starve.

"Well, I met some interesting ones," Snotlout began. "There was one who did some nice weaving, but she was… well, she was severely challenged in the beauty department, and –"

"Son, I told you, that doesn't matter!" Spitelout snapped. "Besides, they all look the same when the candles are blown out. Go back there and get her name for me."

"There's no point in that," his son replied. "When I passed her tent two hours later, one of the minor chiefs from the Wild Men of the North was making arrangements with the girl's father. She's taken already."

His father shrugged. "I warned you, that could happen. Who else did you see?"

"Well, there was one girl who does beadwork, and throws an axe, and she's really pretty, but –"

Spitelout slapped his forehead. "Don't tell me you let _that_ one get away, too!"

"No, Dad, _I'm_ the one who got away. She turned out to be a Bog-Burglar."

The older man visibly relaxed. "At least you listened to _something_ I've told you. Good move, son. I'm glad she didn't snare you with her feminine wilds."

"You mean 'wiles,' right, Dad?"

"When it comes to the Bog-Burglars, 'wilds' is more like it."

"Dad, are they really that bad?"

"Son, let me tell you what being married to a Bog-Burglar is like." Spitelout got comfortable in his portable chair. "When you wake up in the morning, you'll be as cold as ice, because she's got all the blankets on her side of the bed. When you get dressed, she'll tell you what to wear, and then change her mind five times before you get out the door. When you take weapons practice together, she'll tell you you're holding your axe wrong. When you come home at the end of a long day, she'll ask what you want to eat for supper, and when you tell her, she'll say you can't have that because she's already cooking something else. I know this is all true because a childhood friend of mine married one. They are stubborn, contrary, strong-willed, and just about impossible to live with!"

"That all sounds like normal behavior for women," Snotlout commented.

"It is, but I'm just getting started," Spitelout went on. "Bog-Burglars steal things. It's what they all do; it's somewhere between a hobby and a part-time job to them. They gain status in the tribe by pulling off outrageous thefts. If you marry a Bog-Burglar, you'll never know what she's going to make off with next. You'll reach for your helmet, which you've been putting in the same place for years, and suddenly it's gone. You'll be putting your boots on, and all of a sudden, one of them is missing. If you're saving any money to buy something special, kiss that money goodbye. Oh, she'll give most of it back eventually, when it suits her, but to her, it's all a big joke. If she gets tired of stealing your stuff, she'll steal other people's stuff instead, and arrange things so you get the blame for it! Or she'll take some innocent little Viking girl under her wing and make an apprentice thief out of her. A chief's daughter will be the worst of the lot, because her people have always expected her to uphold a higher standard of larceny. Running away from that girl might have been the smartest thing you've ever done."

"In other words, I'd have no peace," Snotlout observed.

"In other words, you'd be better off single! A woman needs to know her role and her place, Snotlout, or she'll make you miserable. The only reason I don't recommend we keep 'em barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen is because Berk is too cold to go barefoot. I know you can do better than a Bog-burglar, son, even if she is a chief's daughter. Keep looking."

"Okay, Dad. But if they're that bad, then why do men keep marrying them?"

Spitelout sighed. "I never understood that, son. Some men will give up a lot so they can get a woman who will do _anything_ when the candles are blown out, and the Bog-Burglar women are notorious for that stuff. There's no arguing that they're pretty, they know how to fight, and they understand things like duty and commitment. I think the problem with most boys your age is that you get pulled in by a pretty face, and you _ignore the warnings your parents give you!_"

"I got the message, Dad, honest!"

"Good," his father said. If he had more to say, he never said it, because he was distracted by the arrival of someone. In fact, her arrival distracted every man in a fifty-foot radius.

She appeared to be middle-aged, but she was still attractive, and she carried herself like she knew it. She stood as tall as most men; her frame was not muscular, but no one would ever suspect her of being weak, either. She walked with a noticeable sway in her ample hips, but not as much as she'd done in her younger days, due to a perpetual backache. That backache was caused by the anatomical features from which she got her nickname. Her hair was brown with traces of gray, and pulled back into a single long braid which she wrapped around her head. She wore dark-green form-fitting clothes instead of leather armor, and she carried no weapon in her hands, but she looked exceedingly dangerous, like a jungle cat that hadn't bared its teeth yet. She stopped in front of Spitelout's tent, positioning herself so she cast her shadow across him.

"You are Spitelout of Berk, brother of Chief Stoick the Vast?" she asked in a low, seductive voice.

Spitelout nodded wordlessly and stood up. He forced himself to look in her eyes; his eyes desperately wanted to wander down lower than that. "You are Big Boobied Bertha, chief of the Bog-Burglars."

She nodded and smiled at his reaction. Most men reacted to her that way; she was used to it, and usually took advantage of it. "I believe we met at the Thing when it was held on Berk, about eight years ago. You're doing a better job of making eye contact this time. I've been told that you have a son named… Snotlout?"

Spitelout glanced at his son, who was staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Snotlout, you're drooling," he warned him quietly.

"Yeah," the young man said vapidly.

"Son, she has _killed_ men with those things!" Spitelout hissed.

"What a way to go," Snotlout whispered back.

Spitelout tried to figure out what the chief of the Bog-Burglars was doing here and why she wanted him, and came up empty. Fortunately for him, Bertha took the initiative. "I would like to speak to you, Spitelout, about something important and personal."

"Son, go find something to do. This is probably going to be chief talk." Snotlout tore his eyes off the woman and wandered away, wondering why he suddenly felt so wound-up and nervous. Bertha took his chair and relaxed.

"I've been told that your son showed quite a bit of interest in my second daughter, Sukiaqui, today. Can I assume that he's looking for a wife?" Spitelout nodded reluctantly.

"By an amazing coincidence, my daughter just happens to be looking for a husband," she went on. "She's warrior-trained and has been on four or five raids, so she'll meet your Viking expectations. She can cook, sew, and spin if she has to, and she can treat minor injuries. Your son will tell you she's quite pretty, and she's very well-endowed… _financially,_ you beady-eyed pig! Your son looks like a fine specimen, he comes from a decent bloodline, and he's about the same rank as my daughter, so it would be a good match for both of them. And his little story about riding a Monstrous Nightmare was so cute, I just _had_ to check up on him. I'd be willing to accept him as a son-in-law. What do you say?"

Spitelout was in trouble and he knew it. He was a fighter, not a thinker, and if he was going to get his son out of this predicament, it would call for some fast thinking. For the first time in his life, he wished Hiccup was around so he could ask the young man's advice. "Well… I'm flattered, but I'm not sure I could afford the bride-price for the daughter of an important chief."

"We can negotiate on that," she replied smoothly. "My tribe has a bad reputation when it comes to how men think about us, so I know I'll have to make some compromises to reach a contract. I'll even concede that they can live on your island instead of mine. I'm sure we can work out an acceptable deal, can't we?"

"Uhh… I'm not sure."

She leaned forward, and her friendly expression turned hard. "Well, here's one thing you can be sure of, mister. My daughter likes the looks of your son, and _he_ initiated the contact between them, so she's got her hopes up. If you choose to disappoint her just because she's a Bog-Burglar, then you'll find out _how_ I became an important chief! And it _wasn't_ by tickling people with a feather."

Spitelout gulped. "You don't mean war, do you?"

She snorted. "Don't be so melodramatic! I have no quarrel with your tribe. But if _you_ start a quarrel with me, then I'll make you wish your worst nightmares had come true instead. Cross me where my daughter is involved, Spitelout, and my tribe will spend the next six months stealing everything you own, from your favorite weapon to the front door off your house, until you've got nothing left but the undies you're wearing." She smiled. "And then I'll steal those myself! I may be the chief, but I can't afford to let my basic skills get rusty, right?"

Spitelout took a deep breath and tried to come to terms with the fact that he'd been out-maneuvered again. "What do you want from me, Bertha?"

"I want a marriage contract between your son and my daughter, heard and witnessed by at least six high-ranking witnesses, before the sun goes down today. I want that contract to include a clause that says, if the chieftainship of my tribe opens up before the chieftainship of your tribe does, then Sukiaqui and Snotlout will move to my island so she can become the chief there. And I want _you_ to stop staring at my chest." He jerked his head upright, looking guilty.

There was only one other angle he could try to play. "Is there any chance we could negotiate for your older daughter instead? Your heir?" She'd still be a Bog-Burglar, but her hand would come with a lot more prestige and influence.

"No, Camicazi is not up for grabs in the marriage market," Bertha answered lightly. "She's a lot like me – she'll take a husband when she's good and ready, not when social custom demands it. No, this is about Sukiaqui. Talk to me, Spitelout. Negotiate. Or else!"

He had no wiggle room in this matter at all. He was trapped, and what was worse, his son was trapped. His dreams of seeing Snotlout become the chief of Berk were about to die the death of a thousand petty thefts, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. He shook his head sadly. "All right, let's start by talking about the bride-price."

When Snotlout returned to the tent about two hours later, Spitelout motioned for him to sit down. "Congratulations, son. You're engaged. By the way, have you seen my shield lately?"

**o**

_A/N  
>Sukiaqui is pronounced "sukiyaki." We know from the Cressida Cowell books that Bertha gave her oldest daughter a name that sounds like a Japanese word (Camicazi = Kamikaze), so I gave her other two daughters similar names. Yes, my version of Bertha isn't much like the way she was portrayed in the books. But when you consider how the book versions of Fishlegs, Gobber, Snotlout, and even Hiccup were changed for the movies, I don't feel like I've done a bad thing.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 3

"Now let me get this straight, Dad," Snotlout said shakily. "I did exactly what you told me to do. I remembered everything you told me about how bad those Bog-Burglar girls are. I ran away from that girl as soon as I found out she was a Bog-Burglar. And now _you've_ gotten me engaged to her _anyway?_"

"Her mother twisted my arm," Spitelout scowled. "That's another thing about women in general and Bog-Burglar women in particular – they fight dirty. But look on the bright side, son. This girl is a warrior, she's got all the domestic skills she needs, and you said she's pretty, so she could be the perfect wife, aside from the fact that she'll probably make your existence a living hell. Maybe you'll find a way to be happy with her."

"Maybe?" Snotlout burst out. "That doesn't sound like Jorgenson talk! We _always_ find a way! Who are you, and what have you done with my father?"

Spitelout smiled suddenly. "You're right! We're Jorgensons! We're undefeated on the field of battle, we're undefeated in Thawfest, and we're going to be undefeated in marriage, too! You take that attitude with you, son, and never let it go. Yes, you'll find a way."

"Yeah! I'm going to win this thing, just like I win everything!" his son exclaimed, and went into his victory dance while chanting, "Snot-lout, Snot-lout, oi oi oi!" Several nearby chiefs gave him a puzzled look. Then he stopped. "Wait. How do I know if I'm winning when I'm married?"

Spitelout had to think about that one for a moment. "Well… if more things are going your way than are going her way, that means you're winning. I think."

"Okay," his son nodded. "Are you winning against Mom?"

"Well... that's one of the complicated parts about being married," Spitelout answered reluctantly. "I think I'm winning, but Saybull seems to think _she's_ winning, so we're both fairly happy. That's not the usual Jorgenson way of doing things, but it works somehow."

"Oh, come on, Dad!" Snotlout burst out. "When are you going to put her in her place and show her who's the boss?"

"The honest answer to that, son, is that I've been trying to put her in her place for almost twenty years. She's been resisting me all the way. That's what I get for marrying a fighter. At this point, we both know that neither of us is ever going to stay on top for long, so we've called a truce, and we –"

"A _truce?!_" Snotlout couldn't believe his ears. "You mean you've given up the fight? Dad, your life is the exact opposite of what you've been telling me my life should be! Are you saying that the stuff you're teaching me doesn't work?"

"What I'm saying, son... and it's hard for me to say this... is that sometimes a good theory doesn't work out in real life. When that happens, most people are better off getting rid of the theory and coming up with a new plan that _does_ work. Some Vikings can beat their heads against a rock and break it, but most of us break our heads instead. The solution to that problem isn't to beat your head harder; the solution is to get a hammer."

"So... what you're telling me is, if this girl won't do things the Jorgenson way, I should smack her with a hammer?"

Spitelout's face clouded over. "What I am telling you to do, Snotlout, is to try to uphold the Jorgenson family traditions in every way. _Every_ way! But it won't do you any harm to have a back-up plan, just in case some of those traditions aren't so easy to uphold."

"Man! The more we talk about this, the more complicated it gets. Can't I just whack her on the head and drag her off by the hair, like you did with Mom?"

Now the older man looked embarrassed. "Well... that didn't exactly happen the way I used to tell you."

"Let me guess, Dad. You never whacked her anywhere, and you never dragged her off by anything?"

Spitelout nodded reluctantly. "That was a nice story to inspire you when you were younger, but the truth is, I only met her once between the engagement and the wedding. My father had raised me on the same kinds of stories I've told you, but the moment I got my first look at her face, I knew I'd never whack that pretty head for any reason. And her hair was way too nice for dragging."

Snotlout shook his head in confusion. "Is there _anything_ you've told me about this engagement stuff that's actually true?"

"Yes, the part about it being complicated is true, and the part about how you're going to find a way to make it work is true. I may have stretched a few of the details, but I'd never lie to you about what's really important."

Snotlout was beginning to wonder about that.

**o**

On the other side of the camp, Bertha and Sukiaqui were having an equally intense discussion.

"You got him?" Sukiaqui asked eagerly.

"I got him," Bertha grinned. "He looks like a good one, too. I just hope you aren't sorry in the end."

"Why would I be sorry?" her daughter asked. "That's what I came here for, isn't it?" She clapped her hands and bounced up and down in excitement. "Oh, this is going to be so awesome! I'm going to have a man to cook for me, and clean my house, and mend my clothes, and... what else will he do for me, Mother?"

Bertha shook her head. "You have to remember, Su, he's not a Bog-Burglar boy. He's from one of those male-centered tribes where they think women should take care of the house and leave the important stuff to the men. If this one is half as stubborn as his father, then you may have a hard time putting him in his place."

"How hard can that be, Mother? I mean, you did it with Dad, right?"

"Yes, and it was a struggle all the way. He still tries to think for himself now and then, after all these years. Don't underestimate this Snotlout, especially because you're going to be living in _his_ village with _his_ people. They'll all be against your way of thinking; even their women will back him up if you have any problems with him. You're going to need all your wiles and charms, as well as your cleverness and courage, to make a good marriage in a situation like that."

"Do you think I can control him the old-fashioned way?" Su asked, and proudly pulled her shoulders back to show how she was taking after her mother in a very noticeable fashion.

"Judging by the drool running down his chin while I was there, yes, you can definitely control him that way," her mother smiled. "But that only works if you're right there with him. If you tell him to do something, and someone else tries to talk him out of it while you're elsewhere, they'll probably succeed. _Real_ control will keep him doing what you want, even if you're out of sight. You can't do that by talking to his hormones; you have to reach his mind and his heart, and that's a much harder thing to do. Especially when you're dealing with a traditional Viking man.

"Speaking of which, there's another problem you may have to face, dear. Because this boy comes from a male-centered family, he probably doesn't even know _how_ to cook."

"WHAT?!" Su burst out. "You mean _I_ might have to do the cooking? I thought you taught me that stuff just so I could capture a guy, and then let _him_ do the domestic stuff."

"I taught you that stuff for the same reason my mother taught it to me – because it may come in handy some day. Maybe you can teach it to him, or maybe you can get his mother to teach him, or maybe you'll find some other way to work it out. I just want to warn you, you're not getting a plug-and-play husband. He's going to need some work done on him before he'll be a fit companion for you."

"What a rip-off," Su said dejectedly. "I thought my wedding day would be the end of all my troubles, not the beginning of them!"

"That would be unrealistic, no matter what tribe you're from," Bertha cautioned her. "You aren't hiring a servant; you're marrying a husband."

"What's the difference?" Su wondered. This was new territory for her.

"You can order a servant around, and you can fire him if he doesn't do the job," her mother answered. "You can try to order a husband around, but you can't force him to obey, and the only way you can fire him is to either divorce him or kill him. Both will cause a scandal and people will talk about you, so I don't recommend either one. You'll get a lot further if you make it worth his while to obey you. Luckily, that isn't hard, because we're women, they're men, and we can, uhh, _do things_ for them that they can't resist. Once he's accustomed to enjoying your, uhh, _charms,_ he'll do anything to stay on your good side so he can keep on enjoying them. That's when your life gets a little easier."

"You mean I have to do… that stuff… with him all the time?" Su wasn't sure what to think about that.

"Trust me – you'll learn to like it, too. Even if you don't, it's a small price to pay for an obedient husband, and if you do like it, it's a win-win for you."

"I'll have to think that part over," Su said doubtfully.

"No, you won't," her mother answered forcefully. "It's _required_ when you're married. You can choose to like it or not; you can choose to make use of the advantage it gives you over him; but if you refuse to do that stuff, that gives _him_ a solid reason to end the marriage, and no one will blame him, not even me. Don't even _think_ about playing that game. I assure you, there are much better games you can play with your husband."

"This all sounds a lot more complicated than I thought," Su said slowly.

"It sounds to me like you've got a head full of fairy-tale notions," Bertha replied. "Snow White and her Seven Husbands, Beauty and the Beastly Fiancée, Robin Hood and her husband who's made for marryin'… none of those stories are true. Reality is never that easy, especially when a man enters the picture. Men aren't complicated, but they make life _very_ complicated for us women. You'd better start bracing yourself for some major changes in your life, from your tribal allegiance to which side of the bed you're going to sleep on."

Sukiaqui thought about that for a few seconds. "Is it too late for me to stay single?"

"That ship has sailed," her mother said firmly. "You're the one who wanted to go to the Thing this year and get a man. Well, you've got one! I've taught you most of what you need to know, and you'll get the rest during your ceremonial washing on your wedding day. You'll make that boy a fine wife, just like you told him. I think he can make you a fine husband, if you train him right. Just be ready for surprises, because married life is full of them. As soon as you think you've got him all figured out, that's when you'll be in trouble. Stay flexible. That's the best advice I can give you."

"Okay," Su said, "but I have one more question. What about falling in love?"

"That will be up to you," Bertha replied kindly. "If you want to let yourself fall for him, you won't be sorry, as long as you're sure he won't make you cry. Once you're sure your heart is safe with him, you can give it to him. But you have to realize, once you love him, you won't want to order him around so much anymore. You'll want a marriage of equals instead. I've heard that marriages like that can work, but I've never seen one. It's not the Bog-Burglar way."

"You've given me a lot to think about," her daughter said.

"You've got some time to think it over," her mother answered. "The wedding won't be until October, which is four months away. You've got time to prepare yourself." She rested her hand on Su's shoulder. "I think you picked a good one. I know how determined you can be when you want something, so I know you'll find a way to be happy. All I ask is that you remember the traditions you grew up with, and that you come back and visit me now and then. Cami is so busy with quests and raids, I hardly see her anymore, and your little sister is still a child. I've gotten used to having you around to talk to. Don't let your mother get lonely."

"I promise, Mom… but how come you don't talk to Dad?"

Bertha snorted and waved her hand dismissively. "Talk to _him?_ All he wants to talk about is the latest Bashyball game, and how the Vikings ought to win it all this year! Men weren't put on this earth to talk to, and they never listen anyway. Here's one more bit of good advice: find some girl friends in your new village as soon as you can. You can do more talking in ten minutes with a girl friend than you could do all day with a man. When your husband is driving you crazy with his typical male behavior, you're going to need that outlet."

"Thanks for the warning," Su replied. "It seems like all you're giving me is warnings. Is there any good news?"

"I can think of quite a few things," Bertha said thoughtfully, "but one big piece of good news stands out in my mind. You'll be the only Bog-Burglar on that island. They won't be used to our way of doing things. When you're ready to try some creative larceny, you'll be like a fox in the henhouse!" They both shared a laugh at that thought.

**o**

"Astrid, I've got to hand it to you – this is your best meal yet." The chicken was a bit overcooked and wasn't long on flavor, but at least Hiccup could chew it without fearing for his teeth. "What did you do different this time?"

"I took your advice," she smiled as she sat down next to him. "I used the flat of my axe to tenderize the chicken before I cooked it. That's _one_ kitchen implement that I _do_ know how to use!"

"I never thought of a battle-axe as a kitchen implement, but if it means you can cook meals like this, then chop away," he said with his mouth full. "Maybe I'll forge you a special one, just for the kitchen, so you can use your regular axe as a weapon and nothing else."

"I'd like that," she nodded as she took a bite. He was right – it was much more tender than her usual cooking. "Make it a little smaller than the weapon version, so I can control it better. Do you have any idea why Snotlout wasn't at the Academy meeting this morning?"

"He's at the Thing with his father," Hiccup said. "I think he's looking for a wife."

"Should I hope for him to succeed or to fail?" she wondered. "If he fails, he'll be miserable, and he'll make the rest of us miserable as well, but if he succeeds, some poor girl is going to be miserable instead."

"I'm sure his father won't let him fail," Hiccup said as he took another bite. "Spitelout will probably pick out some mousy little doormat of a girl for Snotlout to dominate. I guess we should hope he finds a traditional kind of girl who doesn't mind being dominated."

"Knowing Spitelout, I'm sure you're right," she nodded. They enjoyed their meal together in peace.


	4. Chapter 4

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 4

"Where do you think you're going, son?" Spitelout's voice carried a note of warning.

"I thought I'd say hello to my fiancée and start getting to know her better," Snotlout answered.

"Forget it!" It was an order, not a suggestion. "You're engaged now. You're not allowed to spend time alone with your fiancée. That is how accidents happen."

"Then how am I supposed to get to know her?" Snotlout wondered.

"That's what the honeymoon is for. Besides, why would you want to spend time with her? All you can do is talk, and Jorgensons don't talk. We take action! But don't you dare take _any_ action with that girl, or her family might kill you. You want to die in battle so you can go to Valhalla, not at the hands of vengeful in-laws so you wind up in Hel. That would be a disgrace to your whole family. Remember who you are!"

"Yeah, Dad, I'll remember." Snotlout was beginning to get the blasphemous idea that his father was more worried about Jorgenson pride than about his own son's well-being. Then he realized, with a jolt, that there was another factor in play here. He _liked_ this girl! She seemed to be the kind of girl he'd been dreaming of all his life. How could she be as bad as his father said? His father hadn't even met her! He'd keep his eyes open, just to be safe, but for now, he'd treat her like the dream girl she looked like. A guy couldn't go far wrong by treating a girl that way, could he?

He wound up spending the afternoon with the other young men, taking part in mock battles in an empty field. They were all in the same situation he was in, and they were all eager to take out their stresses on each other. Snotlout gave better than he got, but he still came back to his father's tent with a few bruises.

"Did you take down any chiefs' sons?" was Spitelout's only question.

"Well, the future chief of the Hysteric tribe is going to have one whopper of a headache tonight."

"That's my boy!" Spitelout didn't have much else to say for the rest of the evening.

Meanwhile, Bertha was having an equally hard time keeping her Bog-Burglar daughter under lock and key. "I told you _no,_ you can't go and see him! Why would you even want to?"

"But, Mother, all I want to do is get to know him a little better, and find out his strengths and weaknesses. You know, forewarned is forearmed?"

"For one thing, Su, it's a waste of time. All boys are pretty much the same – they're proud, self-centered, lusty, and not nearly as smart as they think they are. If you want to learn much more than that, you have to spend hours with them, and you can't do that until you're married. For another thing, it's against the rules. If his relatives think you're pursuing him, they'll wonder what you're pursuing him for, and if they come up with an answer they don't like, they'll part your hair. Permanently. With a sword. I don't think you want that."

"Seriously, Mother?"

"Seriously, daughter. The boy's father was all 'family tradition' this and 'Jorgenson honor' that. They're old-school. They'd rather settle things with large, sharp, heavy things to the head than any other way. Besides, what's the point of learning what he's like now? Your only worry is whether you can change him. Remember, when a girl is preparing for her wedding, her only concerns are the aisle, the altar, and the hymn. Aisle altar hymn! Get it?"

"Yes, Mom, I see what you did there," Su sighed. It sounded like marriage was going to be a lot of work.

Late that night, both Su and Lout crept out of their tents and made their way around the perimeter of the camping area to each other's tent. By a stroke of bad luck, they both started by going clockwise, so they never encountered each other. Both arrived at the other's tent, heard the sounds of only one person breathing, and realized that the other was out and about. They both retraced their steps in the hope of meeting their fiancée that way, met no one, and went back to sleep, disappointed.

By the next morning, both of them were thinking of the other as some kind of forbidden fruit. Again, they both had the same idea – they would just wander around the campground, and "by accident" they would arrive at the other's tent. Again, they missed each other and got to their future in-law's tent to find the object of their curiosity gone. But this time, they ran into each other (nearly headfirst) as they returned to their own tents.

"Uhh, hi," Snotlout began. He'd never talked to a fiancée before.

"Hi," Su replied.

"So… I guess we're engaged now," he stammered.

"That's what my mother tells me," she answered.

"So what do we do next?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," she shrugged.

"Hey – do you want to meet me after lunch for some weapons practice?"

"Sure! I'll see you at the axe-throwing range, right after high noon," she smiled.

At that moment, a much bigger teen walked up to them. "Get lost, little boy," he growled at Snotlout. "I like the look of this girl, and there isn't room for three here."

"She's taken," Snotlout growled back. He hoped he wasn't about to start a fight against a bigger boy in the middle of the crowded camp, but he wasn't about to back away from his own fiancée. Not while she was standing there watching.

"Hey, I know you," the bigger boy said haughtily. "You're the son of your chief's brother. Well, I'm the son of my chief, so I outrank you! This pretty girl will go for me, not you, when the bidding for her hand starts."

"The bidding for my hand is finished," she corrected him sharply. "We are betrothed. Back off."

"You're giving me orders? You're a feisty one!" The young man smiled viciously and gripped her jaw in his hand. "I'm going to have fun teaching you to –"

Snotlout slapped his hand away. "Take your stinking paws off her, you darned dirty ape!" he ordered. The bigger boy answered with a fist aimed at his face. Snotlout ducked under the blow, then unleashed a double punch to his adversary's midsection, followed by an uppercut to the jaw that knocked the big young man silly and sent his horned helmet flying. The huge youth staggered back and disappeared into the crowd that had formed to watch the fight.

"Sorry, folks, it's all over," Snotlout called to them. "There's nothing to see here. Move along, move along. Just remember which one was the awesome one." He was feeling good about himself and his little victory. Then he glanced at Sukiaqui. She didn't look pleased.

"Do you boys have to settle everything with violence?" she demanded.

Snotlout shrugged. "Why not? Violence has settled more things than all the talk in the world, and besides, he started it. Hey, wait, where are you going?" She turned away and was lost in the crowd. Why did she leave at his moment of triumph? He'd fought to protect her! He'd won the fight! He'd done _everything_ right! What was wrong with her? He couldn't ask his father because he didn't want his father to know he'd met his fiancée. At least he still had a date with her at the axe-throwing range. That wouldn't break any rules because they wouldn't be alone together.

The Visithugs had set up this range so the visiting Vikings could work off some of their latent aggression without actually hurting anybody. It was a place where young and old alike could show off their skill at throwing axes at wooden bull's-eye targets. There was much boasting and trash-talk, and quite a bit of wagering as well. Today, there was an oddity: there was one girl among the men.

Snotlout had to wait his turn for a target that wasn't being used, so he paused to watch his fiancée. Su wasn't hurling her weapon with anything like the force that the muscular men were using, but her aim was very, very good. Snotlout was glad he hadn't had to face her in the axe-throwing portion of the Thawfest Games; she might have given him a hard time. Of course, he'd have clobbered her in the sheep-carrying event and the obstacle course, but it galled him to realize that he might have had any competition at all.

Then it was his turn to throw his weapon at a target. His first few throws hit the target squarely and sent the splinters flying, but his aim was slightly off. He figured out the reason – this throwing range had the targets further away than he was used to. He tried to compensate by throwing harder, but it didn't seem to help.

That was when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. "You're holding your axe wrong," she told him quietly. He remembered his father warning him about this exact kind of un-feminine interference!

"Seriously?" he demanded. "I've been throwing axes since I was three years old! I've won every Thawfest axe-throwing contest I've ever entered. Now _you're_ going to tell me I'm doing it wrong?"

"You're holding the axe handle at the very bottom," she said patiently. "You get maximum power that way, but you don't get the best control. Try holding it about one handsbreadth up the handle, and see what happens."

Just to shut her up, he tried it. His first throw almost fell short of the whole target; he wasn't used to launching his weapon like this. His second throw struck the bull's-eye, just half an inch from dead center. "That was lucky," he said out lout, and tried it again. This time, he nailed the center. "That was even luckier," he said, and tried once more. Again he hit the bull's-eye.

"You're pretty good, for a boy," she nodded.

"And you've got a lot of nerve, for a girl," he shot back.

That made her smile. "You haven't seen anything yet, Snotlout."

"Neither have you," he replied. Another Viking took advantage of his distraction and took over the target he'd been using. Suddenly, neither of them had anything to do. They stepped away from the crowds who were watching the axe-throwers.

"So... what happens next?" she asked.

"Want to arm-wrestle?" he challenged her.

"You'd have too much advantage," she replied. "How about a tickle fight?"

"Too much advantage for you," he answered. "Maybe a sheep-carrying race?"

"I'd be hopeless at that. Uhh... Twenty Questions?"

"I'd be even more hopeless at that," Snotlout said. "While we're here, how about an axe-throwing contest?"

"That sounds like fun," she smiled, "but you'll have a hard time winning if you don't have an axe." He glanced down at his feet, where he'd laid his axe... and it was gone. She reached behind her back, pulled it out, and held it in both hands. "Say the magic word," she said.

"Give it back!" he demanded. He tried to grab it, but she pulled it away.

"That's three words," she grinned. "You lose. I keep the axe."

"Never!" he shouted, and leaped at her. His wrestling form wasn't sophisticated, but he was both stronger and heavier than she was, and this contest could have only one ending. That was when she turned it into a tickle fight, which he immediately lost.

"You cheated!" he gasped, once he'd caught his breath.

"Nobody said there were any rules, so I didn't break any," she smiled innocently.

He shook his head. His father had described this girl perfectly! He would have been filled with dismay, except for one thing: she'd been right about his axe-throwing technique. That galled him; so did the fact that she still had his axe and he wasn't a bit closer to getting it back. But he was also curious. How could she have been right about something so masculine as throwing an axe? What else did she know that might be useful to him?

For now, he was out of options. At least his father wouldn't see his son admitting defeat. He hung his head. "May I please have my axe back?"

She thought about it. "Well... okay." She held it out. He reached for it, expecting her to pull it back, but she let him take it. Now he was totally confused – he felt like she was deliberately trying to be unpredictable!

"Are you going to do this to me every day of our lives together?" he wondered.

She smiled and wrinkled her nose at him. "No, this is just a warm-up exercise. I have not yet begun to be light-fingered!"

He scowled. "I think we're going to have to make some changes, once we're together."

"Yup," she nodded readily. "My mother already predicted that."

He had the sinking feeling that, every time he opened his mouth, he made things worse. If she was in favor of making changes, then those changes probably wouldn't be good for him. But leaving things the way they were would be bad, too. His attempts to take control of the situation weren't working at all. How in the Nine Worlds was he supposed to uphold the Jorgenson family traditions with a girl like this?

"Well, thanks for the axe-throwing lesson," he said grudgingly as he turned to go.

"You're welcome, and thanks for your money pouch," she grinned, and held it up.

"Hey!" he yelled. "Give it back!" She turned and ran; he gave chase. She was a good runner. If she hadn't tripped over a tent stake and fallen flat, he never would have gotten his money back.

**o**

_A/N  
>In case you didn't get Bertha's joke, "aisle altar hymn" sounds like "I'll alter him."<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 5

It was a typical Thing in most ways, including the conclusion of marriage contracts. By the fourth day, five engagements had been publicly announced, which wasn't unusual. But the news that one young couple had not only managed to spend time together, but were already fighting like cats and dogs… _that_ was worthy of gossip. For Spitelout and for Bertha, the humiliation was almost too much to bear.

"Young man, you are _grounded!_" Spitelout didn't want to shout, because all his neighbors could hear him through the tent walls, but he spoke as forcefully as he dared. "You are not to leave this tent except to eat or relieve yourself, unless I go with you. And when we get home, I'll _really_ lower the boom on you! Do you understand me?"

"What was I supposed to do, Dad? Let her make off with my stuff? I thought you wanted me to –"

"What I wanted you to do, young man, is uphold our proud family traditions! Getting in a wrestling match with a girl, in public, in broad daylight… I think some of our ancestors are rolling over in their barrows! Stoick isn't very happy about it, either. Oh, the shame of it! From what I heard, you didn't even _win!_"

"It was just like you said, Dad – she fought dirty! Why are you surprised that I need some practice keeping her in line? After all, her mother beat you in negotiating, right?"

Spitelout scowled deeply. "Those are two separate issues, and I'll thank you to _not_ bring that up again. As for keeping her in line, you can practice _after_ she's got your ring on her finger, not before! I'm just glad she lives on another island. Once the Thing ends, we'll go home and she'll go to _her_ home, and there won't be any more _incidents_ like this. Right, son?"

"Well, Dad, if I wanted to, I could always ride Hookfang over to her island and –"

"_NO!_ I absolutely forbid that! If you so much as set foot on Bog-Burglar Island before you're married… I'll disown you! This is not a joke, you young fool! You're on the verge of disgracing your family, your tribe, and the entire Archipelago!"

"Okay, Dad, okay! Next time, I'll let her keep my axe and my money bag! She can steal the clothes off my back, and I'll just smile and let her take them."

"You will do nothing of the kind, son. You will _not_ allow a woman to dominate your life like that. What kind of Jorgenson are you?"

"I'm the kind that doesn't know what I'm supposed to do anymore, Dad! You don't want me to get my stuff back if she steals it, but you don't want me to let her get away with stealing it… so what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to stay away from her, so she can't steal anything and the problem won't come up again. That's what I want. And that is what _you_ are going to do. Any questions?"

"Just one, Dad. What am I supposed to do with myself for the next three days?"

"You seem to think you're so clever. You come up with something."

Snotlout thought hard. "How about the mock battles outside the camp? I can't get into much trouble there, can I?"

Now it was Spitelout's turn to think hard. "Will you promise me you'll go straight to the battles, do nothing _but_ battle, and come straight back here when the battles end?"

"Sure. I promise." Snotlout wasn't looking for trouble. He just didn't want to stay cooped up in a tent for three days, and he was _really_ feeling the urge to bash somebody over the head.

"All right. But if I hear that you broke your promise, I'll take away your weapons for a month. A whole _month!_ Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Dad. I get the idea." He grabbed his mace, a shield, and some dirty clothes he could use to pad his weapon with, and headed for the mock-battlefield. This was going to be awesome!

**o**

"My darling daughter, you have successfully caused more chaos and confusion in this camp than I can even keep track of, never mind deal with! How do you expect to become a decent thief if you're going to keep calling attention to yourself like that? What in the Nine Worlds were you _thinking,_ goading that boy into a wrestling match?"

"I didn't goad him into anything, Mother! I just did what any good Bog-Burglar would do. I saw a weapon lying on the ground, so I took it. I didn't know he had such an emotional attachment to his axe!"

"That's an excuse, Sukiaqui, and you know it. Nobody likes having their stuff taken. If they did, it would take all the fun out of stealing it. More to the point, if he starts to expect you to swipe his stuff at every turn, he'll get paranoid about it, and you won't be able to grab something when the opportune moment arises. You're tipping your hand way too early in the game."

"I'm just trying to get him used to the way things are going to be. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Yes, there is, because you aren't married yet. He isn't your plaything. You don't want him to get in the habit of checking his belongings whenever you walk by. You'll never get his belongings that way! Play it cool; don't grab everything you can, every chance you can; a little patience now will pay off much better in the future than being a greedy show-off." As Su rose to protest, Bertha held up her hand. "None of this even matters, because you aren't going to spend any more time with him during the Thing, and then we'll be on separate islands until the wedding. From now until we get back on our ship to go home, I am not letting you out of my sight. Your days of antagonizing your fiancée are over! The next time you see him, he'll be your husband, and then you can do as you please with him."

"That doesn't leave me many options for the next three days," Su moped.

"How about we wander down and watch the men fight their mock battles?" her mother thought out loud. "Once we get an idea of who's good and who isn't, I can show you another way to rob people. It's called 'gambling,' and it can be quite profitable once you know what you're doing."

"Wouldn't it be more fun to disguise ourselves as men and join those battles?" Su wondered.

"It might be, but women who are built like you and me would never fool anybody," Bertha said decisively. "We'll just watch and place some bets. Let the overgrown boys beat each other black and blue. We'll enjoy the show and get a little richer at their expense. Men can be very entertaining under the right circumstances, in case you hadn't noticed."

They made their way to the south side of the campground. Finding the battlefield wasn't hard; they just had to follow the sounds of grunting, shouting, the thud of padded weapons against wooden shields, and the occasional scream of pain. The eyes of all the spectators were on them as they found a good vantage point to watch the action. A few of the fighters also got distracted by their appearance, and paid the inevitable price for getting distracted in battle. Most of them were totally focused on their heartfelt desire to beat somebody senseless; a few had actually given in to the berserker frenzy, and were clearing a swath through the crowded battlefield. The fact that the weapons were padded made it okay, in their minds, to swing with all their strength, no matter how the recipient of the blow might feel about it. At least half of the spectators were former combatants who were shaking off the effects of a solid blow to the head. Their helmets might have saved their lives, but that kind of impact still had to hurt.

Sukiaqui quickly noticed Snotlout in the crowd, and watched his performance. He wasn't lacking in zeal or in strength, but he kept turning his back on one enemy to take a swing at another, and the first one invariably knocked him silly. He'd bounce back up and wade into the battle again, and in five minutes, he'd be down again. She mentioned this to her mother.

"What a classic Viking," she marveled. "He doesn't learn from his mistakes, and he doesn't know when to quit. If they played with teams, so he'd have someone to watch his back, he'd probably be a great fighter, but in a free-for-all like this, he hasn't got a chance."

"Oh, really?" rumbled a low voice from behind them. They both spun around, startled.

"Stoick the Vast," Bertha purred. "What a pleasure to meet you again."

The big chief grunted in acknowledgment. "It so happens that the young man in question is one of Berk's best fighters. I think he'll be the last one standing when this match is over."

"Really?" Bertha said. A smile crept across her face. "Perhaps you'd like to wager a few coppers on that?"

"Make it silver," Stoick retorted. "We're chiefs; let's gamble like chiefs." They agreed on five silver coins at two-to-one odds and clasped hands, then returned to watching the battle. Su wandered away from them, to a place where there weren't many other spectators. She stood alone and watched as Snotlout knocked down man after man, and kept getting knocked down himself, but kept getting up again. Within ten minutes, there were only five Vikings still standing, and the son of Spitelout was one of them.

That was when Sukiaqui made her move. She waited until Snotlout was lining up a blow on someone, and was unaware that someone else was coming up behind him. "Oh, Snotlout!" she called in her pretty-girliest voice, and when he glanced at her, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. That made some other parts of her bounce as well, which Snotlout apparently found hypnotic. His own blow slowed down in mid-swing and barely bounced off his victim's helmet. The man behind him was undistracted, and he swung and connected with full force. Snotlout went down, and he stayed down until several minutes after the battle was over. Sukiaqui strutted back to join her mother and Stoick.

"Nicely done," Bertha said approvingly. "You made your mother proud today, and you made me slightly wealthier, too."

"You cheated," the Berk chief snarled.

"Is there something in the rules that says I can't do that?" Su answered innocently.

"All's fair in love and war," Bertha added as she held out her hand.

Stoick grudgingly dropped his five silver coins into her palm. "Love and war. I have a feeling that _that_ couple is going to get _both_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 6

Incredibly (for those who knew him), Snotlout actually learned something from being bashed on the head that day. He learned to keep his mind on what he was doing when a battle was raging around him. Stoick noticed the change, placed some discreet wagers on his nephew, and recovered his five silver pieces and quite a bit more.

Snotlout learned something else as well. He decided that his fiancée did not have his best interests at heart. Put quite simply, he couldn't trust her. There was no way under Valhalla he could spend the rest of his life with a girl he couldn't trust. When she'd said there would have to be some changes made, she wasn't kidding! He had to think of some way to put her in her place and keep her there.

First, he tried to size up the situation. What were her strengths? She was cute enough to distract him at will, he couldn't hit her because she was a girl, she was devious and clever and light-fingered, and she was getting advice from someone who was a master at winning the war between the sexes, namely her mother. What were her weaknesses? She didn't seem to have any.

What were his strengths? He was physically stronger, he was a Jorgenson, and he rode a dragon. He couldn't think of much else. What were his weaknesses? He liked the girl and didn't want to do anything bad to her. She had no such qualms. It looked like she held all the high cards in this game. He needed some advice to counteract the advice she was getting, and for the first time in his life, he didn't think his dad could help. The father seemed to be as clueless in this extraordinary situation as the son was. He needed to find someone else whose wife held all the high cards, and who had made a happy marriage in spite of that. Who did he know who fit into those categories?

No.

Absolutely not.

It would be a hot day in the Arctic before he turned to _Hiccup_ for marriage advice! He resolved to think of some other way, _any_ other way to deal with his problem.

He thought about it for the remainder of the Thing. He thought about it on the two-day ride home. He thought about it until his head hurt (which didn't take much thinking, actually). He thought until the moment Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut flew out with their dragons to meet his ship as it approached Berk's harbor. They flew next to the ship until Snotlout finally acknowledged their existence.

"Did you get one, Snotlout?" Fishlegs called hopefully.

Snotlout put his cocky face back on, for the first time in days. "Yeah, I got one. She's a chief's daughter and a real looker. Her name is Sukiaqui."

"Sukiaqui?" Tuff repeated. "That sounds like some kind of weird food dish, not a Viking girl! Where's she from?"

"Bbglr," Snotlout mumbled after a moment.

"Where?" Ruff demanded.

"She's a Bog-Burglar, okay?" Lout snapped. He expected an unpleasant reaction from the twins, and they didn't disappoint him. They both broke up into raucous laughter.

"A Bog-Burglar?" Tuff shouted. "Snotlout's going to marry a Bog-Burglar! Woo-hoo! The Jorgensons are going to have a new head of the household, and her name won't be Snotlout!"

"Maybe I should teach you how to wear an apron and sweep the floor," Ruff added maliciously. "That's something you'll need to know!"

"Ruff can help you get fitted for a skirt, too, if you need one," her brother chimed in.

"You kids don't need to worry about any of that!" Spitelout shouted from the stern of the ship. "My son will do things the Jorgenson way, just like he always has."

"And we know how well _that_ works! Right, Snotlout?" Tuff hooted as their dragon arched away and returned to the island. Fishlegs looked like he was about to say something, but he shook his head and guided Meatlug back to land. Snotlout was left fuming. His so-called friends would spread the news of his engagement (and his impending humiliation) halfway across the island before his ship was done tying up at the docks.

Well, if he was going to be humiliated, he might as well do a good job of it. Once he'd landed, greeted everyone who came to the docks to welcome the travelers home, and given his mother Saybull a summary of the situation, he headed for the forge.

He found Hiccup sharpening a fancy bronze dagger, probably as trade bait for the next time Trader Johann arrived. The slim young man looked up and seemed pleased to see the bigger youth approach. "Hey! Snotlout! Welcome back. Sorry I couldn't greet you at the docks, but, you know, duty calls. Got any interesting news?"

How was he going to handle this?

"Yeah, I'm glad to be back. I had a pretty good time out there. I cleaned up in the mock battles, of course – no surprise there, right? But, uhh, I have a question."

Hiccup set his work aside and put down his tools. "Sure. What's on your mind?"

"Well, uhh, I'm in this arrangement now, and it's a little bit unusual, and I –"

"Arrangement? You mean you got engaged? Congratulations! What is she like?"

"Well, that's kind of the problem. You see, she's a… she's a…"

"A what, Snotlout? A dragon-fighter? A slave girl? A Berserker? What is she?"

"She's a chief's daughter."

Hiccup smiled. "That's not a problem, right? That sounds like good news! Which chief?"

Snotlout leaned over and whispered in Hiccup's ear. "Bertha."

Hiccup's eyes bugged out of his head. "You're marrying a daughter of Big B–"

Snotlout clapped his hand over Hiccup's mouth. "Shh! You don't have to shout it all over town, okay? The twins are already doing a good job of that."

"Okay," Hiccup said, a lot more quietly. "Now, _p___lease__ tell me you aren't engaged to Camicazi!_"_

"No, not that one," Snotlout admitted. "I think marrying _any_ of Bertha's daughters is going to be a suicide mission, but the girl's name is Sukiaqui."

"Okay, I remember her," Hiccup sighed with relief. "She's the middle daughter. I'd be stunned if you'd gotten Cami – I didn't even think she was looking for a man – and Naginatta is still kind of young. How did you get that arrangement past your dad?"

"Actually, he's the one who made the arrangement." _That_ revelation rocked Hiccup back on his heel.

"Wow! All righty, then. So… what in the world was _he_ thinking, matching you up with a Bog-Burglar?"

"He won't tell me, but I think there was some blackmail involved," Snotlout replied sourly. "Mind you, I'm not complaining... yet. She's really pretty, she can sew, she can fight… and I kind of like her, a little, I think. The only problem is she's going to want to run the show."

"That, and she'll rob us all blind," Hiccup added.

"Yeah, that too," Snotlout agreed. "But what I want to know is… I mean, Astrid is a lot stronger than you are, and she used to hit you all the time, but it seems like she's stopped, and… I don't know how to say this…"

"You want to know how to get along with somebody who isn't so easy to get along with?" Hiccup asked. Snotlout nodded reluctantly.

"There isn't any deep, dark secret to it," Hiccup began. "Astrid loves me, so she wants to make me happy. When she found out how unhappy I was when she hit me, she stopped doing it. It took her a while to get out of the habit, but it was important to her, because I'm important to her. I've made a few sacrifices for her, like keeping Toothless out of the house, for the same reason.

"It sounds like you've got an even bigger problem, but I think you need the same answer. If she loves you, she'll want to make you happy, so she'll try to stop doing the things that make you unhappy. I'm sure that's not what your dad told you –"

"You've got that right!" Snotlout interjected.

"…and it's probably not the way you'd rather handle things, knowing you the way I do," Hiccup went on.

"What do you mean by that?" Lout challenged him.

"I just mean you like to take charge and do things your way, and any other way must be wrong," Hiccup said mildly. "That probably isn't going to work with a Bog-Burglar."

"Why not?" Snotlout challenged him.

"Hmm… how can I explain this?" Hiccup thought out loud. "Let's say you've got a longship, and Tuffnut has a longship that's just as big as yours, and you want to settle who has the better ship. So you both try to ram the other guy's ship and sink him. What do you think will happen?"

Snotlout thought hard. "I'll sink Tuffnut's ship and dance on his grave?"

"What usually happens is you both sink each other, and nobody has a longship anymore," Hiccup explained patiently. "That's what will happen if you try to run your marriage the Jorgenson way."

"We'll sink each other? I don't get it." Snotlout was confused.

"You'll make each other miserable, and neither one of you will win."

"No winner?"

"Nope," Hiccup said. "Just two losers."

"So… what other choice do I have?"

"You can do something very brave," Hiccup told him. "You can set aside the Jorgenson way, and try doing things the happy-marriage way instead. That means you both love each other and try to make each other happy. When that happens, you're both winners."

Snotlout scratched his head. "Isn't there a way for me to put her in her place, so I'm the only one who wins?"

"That might work with some girls, but it never would have worked with Astrid, and I can guarantee you, it won't work with a Bog-Burglar princess, either," Hiccup said. "I used to hang out with your fiancée's big sister Camicazi when we were younger, so I know a little bit about how they think."

"Hiccup, I will give you five gold coins if you'll explain that to me," Snotlout said heartily.

"I said I know a little bit, not a lot," Hiccup smiled. "No man can say he understands how a woman thinks, unless he's a Loki-class liar. But think about this. You know how your dad taught you what girls were like?" Snotlout nodded. "Imagine a girl who was brought up thinking the same way about boys."

"But if she thought like that… she'd be wrong!" Lout exclaimed. "Right?"

"She'd be completely convinced that she's better than you, and she has to put you in your place so she can win in this marriage. She'll use trickery, manipulation, sex appeal, and anything else she can think of to get her own way. Nothing you could say would ever change her mind about things. She wouldn't rest until she'd found a way to make you admit that she's in charge."

"But that's what _I'm_ trying to do!" Snotlout protested. "If we're both trying to do the same thing…"

"Then you're going to sink each other's longships, and you're both going to lose," Hiccup told him solemnly, "unless one of you changes, and gives the other one a good reason to change as well. Maybe she'll figure this out, and maybe she'll be the one to change first, or maybe she won't. If you want to be happy, then _you_ need to be the one who changes first."

"My dad would kill me if he heard me even _listening_ to talk like that," Snotlout thought out loud.

Hiccup laid a hand on his friend's shoulder for a moment. "Snotlout, this isn't your dad's marriage. He doesn't have to live with this girl. _You_ do. And you're going to be living with _her,_ not with your dad, for the rest of your life. If your dad is happy, but you and your wife are both miserable, what good is that?"

Snotlout furrowed his brow. "There's something about that kind of thinking that almost makes sense. I'm not used to doing this much thinking. It's making my head hurt."

"What you need is some fresh air," Hiccup decided. "Go flying with Hookfang for a few hours. He hasn't seen you all week. You can think better once you clear your head. It always works for me and Toothless."

"Now _that_ makes _sense!_" Snotlout cried as he ran out of the forge. He found his dragon in the first place he looked, which was the Academy ring. The Monstrous Nightmare looked like he was moping, but the moment he saw Snotlout, he perked up and let out a quick blast of fire that his rider barely dodged.

"Yeah, I'm glad to see you too, big guy," Snotlout exclaimed as he ran up to the dragon and rubbed his nose horn. "Wanna go flying?" The dragon replied by shoving Snotlout with his nose and nearly knocking him over.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," the boy answered, bounded onto his dragon's neck, and they soared up into the afternoon sky. Whether swooping through the sea stacks or climbing to the clouds, there weren't any strong-willed girls up there, or predatory mothers-in-law, or domineering fathers. Life was a lot simpler on the back of a dragon.

_Hiccup was right about the fresh air,_ Snotlout thought to himself. _Maybe he's right about the other stuff, too. Of course, he's Hiccup, so he can't be right about everything. We'll wait and see_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 7

As the wedding drew nearer, both the bride-to-be and the groom-to-be took part in an assortment of traditional Viking practices that were meant to prepare them for the big day. These practices didn't leave the principals _feeling_ prepared. Mostly, they just felt more and more nervous.

**o**

"Snotlout, you're going to need a sword for your wedding."

"I know that, Dad. I was thinking of paying Hiccup to make one for me. He made some great ones for his own weddings."

"Forget that idea, son. That's not the Jorgenson way. You don't need to go outside your own family to get a proper wedding sword. Your great-grandfather Stinklout has a perfectly good blade that he isn't using anymore. All you have to do is go up to him and ask him for it."

"But, Dad… I thought my great-grandfather died before you were born."

"That's right, son."

"So how am I supposed... to..." Snotlout's voice trailed off and he went pale. When he spoke again, it was with no bravado at all. "Dad. You're talking about me robbing his grave. Aren't you." It wasn't a question.

"That's how traditional Vikings have always done it, and that's how _you're_ going to do it."

Snotlout tried to protest, but all that came out of his mouth was an unmanly squeak. He finally found his voice again. "Can I do it in the daytime, at least?"

"No, of course not. These things are always done at night. You don't want to be seen by some impressionable kids who will think it's okay to rob graves any time they want, now, do you?" Spitelout patted his son's shoulder patronizingly. "You won't have to do it all alone, of course. I'll be there with you, and you can bring a friend or two. You need to find your own pick and shovel. Be ready after sundown tonight." Snotlout nodded mutely; his stomach was knotting up already.

After sunset, a party of four – Snotlout, Spitelout, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs – left the village for the nearby burial ground. Fishlegs and Tuffnut carried torches, Spitelout had a coil of stout rope, and Snotlout had a shovel and a pick. Tuffnut also had a small covered basket hung from the back of his belt. It took some searching until they found the right barrow in the darkness.

"This is really where Stinklout is buried, right, Dad?" Snotlout quavered. "We're not at somebody else's barrow by mistake? I mean, I don't want to steal the wrong sword, or tick off the wrong dead guy."

Tuffnut had to add a comment. "Hey, if it turns out to be a lady's grave, maybe she'll scream when you break in."

"Dead people don't scream very much," Fishlegs suggested.

"You hope!" Tuffnut retorted. Snotlout went even paler than he had been.

"This is the place, son, and here's the entrance," his father said matter-of-factly. "You know what you have to do." His son took the shovel, with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man carrying the axe that would sever his own head, and began digging. When he hit rocks, he used the pick to move them out of the way, until he'd opened a three-foot-wide hole into the burial chamber that lay below them.

Spitelout handed him a torch. "Just climb in and get the sword, son. I'll dangle the rope down the hole when you're ready, so you can climb out again."

"Is that a promise, Dad?" Snotlout asked nervously.

"I am _not_ the kind of man who would strand his own son in somebody else's grave," Spitelout growled. "Now get in there!" Snotlout reluctantly lowered his legs into the hole and dropped in.

"AAAAAH!" came a scream from inside. "He's dead! Really, _really_ dead!"

"That's a good thing," Fishlegs called down into the hole. "If he was alive, that would be really, really _bad!_"

"Get the sword!" Spitelout ordered. After a few seconds, he heard his son say, "I got it! Drop me the rope!"

That was when Tuffnut loosened the lid of his basket and dropped it down the hole. They heard it hit the ground inside, they heard a squeak, and then Snotlout screamed again, even louder this time, and much higher-pitched as well. "A rat! There's a rat in here with me!"

"So kill it, Viking warrior!" his father commanded. "You've got a sword, right?" They heard five panicky shouts and five blows of metal against rock, then silence.

At last, Snotlout's muffled voice said, "I'm really, _really_ ready for that rope, Dad."

"Did you kill it?" Fishlegs asked.

"I scared it, so it ran away and hid," came the reply. "Now get me out of here!" They pulled him out of the hole. He was covered in ancient cobwebs and his clothes were discolored with gray dust, but he had the sword, still in its scabbard.

"Did you even draw the sword when you were fighting that evil rat?" Tuffnut smirked. "It doesn't look that way."

"Duh! Of course I didn't draw it! I didn't want to dull the blade," Snotlout said defensively. His friends nodded, unconvinced. He filled in the hole and covered it again, and the little party returned to the village.

"I knew you'd get the job done," Spitelout said to his son. "You're a Jorgenson, after all. Now you've done something you can look back on with pride!"

"Sure, Dad," Snotlout said, his voice still shaky. He didn't say what he was really thinking. _Look back? I'd rather forget the whole thing. If I ever, __ever__ need another sword for any reason, I'll ask Hiccup and pay whatever price he asks. I won't even haggle. I think doing things the Jorgenson way is going to be the death of me._

**o**

"Okay, we'll try this again," Bertha said patiently. "Repeat after me. Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle."

"Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle," Sukiaqui repeated, sounding totally bored.

"With strength blended and brightest honor," her mother intoned.

"With booze blended and strongest liquor," her daughter said.

"Get it right, Su! This isn't funny. It's an ancient wedding tradition, every bride I've ever known had to recite it at her reception, and you'll shame your whole tribe if you can't memorize four lousy lines! I did it, and you'll do it, too."

"Fine," Sukiaqui sighed. "With strength blended and brightest honor."

" 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs," Bertha recited.

"There's no magic in a stupid tankard of mead, and there aren't any songs in it, either!" Su burst out. "Who wrote this moronic poem, anyway?"

"Nobody knows," her mother said, beginning to lose her cool. "It's been part of every Viking wedding for the past two hundred years, and it's going to be part of _yours_ if you know what's good for you. Now say it!"

" 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs," Sukiaqui recited in a monotone.

"With goodly spells, wish-speeding runes," Bertha finished.

"With goodly spells, wish-speeding runes, and I _wish_ this wedding would _speed_ up and be over with! Mother, this is torture! Especially the part where I have to act like a subservient little servant girl and bring my lordly husband his mead to drink. You're telling me you actually recited this stupid verse to Dad at your wedding? And served him a tankard to drink out of?"

"Yes, and it embarrassed him just as much as it did me. We both knew I was destined to be the chief of our tribe some day, and his role was to back me up, but we still had to play our parts for the wedding." She switched to a more kindly expression. "This isn't some torment I dreamed up to inflict on you, Su. Every Viking girl goes through this. We always have, and we always will."

"Well, _somebody_ must have started that tradition sometime. Can't I start a new tradition, and leave the stupid poetry out of my wedding?"

"Not while I'm the chief, and not while I'm your mother. Now recite it all." Sukiaqui rolled her eyes and recited:

"Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle,  
>"With strength blended and brightest honor.<br>" 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs,  
>"With goodly spells... and something else."<p>

"Wish-speeding runes! Wish-speeding runes! Why is this so hard for you, Su?"

"Mother, I don't even know what a wish-speeding rune _is!_ And I sure wouldn't want to find one in the mead I was drinking! I'd probably spit it out and never drink mead again. If I'm going to recite meaningless nonsense at my wedding, can't I make up my own?"

"A wish-speeding rune is a rune that makes a wish come true faster," Bertha explained patiently.

"And this mead we're going to drink actually has those runes in it? What do they taste like?"

"Su, just recite the stupid poem, okay?"

**o**

"Spitelout, this project is becoming a disaster, and I hate to say it, but it's your son's fault."

Snotlout's father stared at the foreman who was overseeing the construction of his son's new home. He decided to use big words to intimidate the man, who sounded impertinent and needed some intimidating. "Tradition requires an engaged man to build a house for himself and his bride. If he lacks the skills to build a house, he's allowed to hire someone else to do the bulk of the work, as long as he is involved in some way. Snotlout definitely lacks the skills; he serves the town as a warrior, not as a construction laborer. Please explain to me how his limited involvement is bludgeoning the entire project."

"He gave new orders to the workmen while I was away supervising the cutting of more lumber. Now the front wall of the house is going to be three feet longer than the back wall! How am I supposed to make a square roof fit on a building that doesn't have square corners?"

"Let me see." They walked together to the construction site, which was on the outskirts of town. Spitelout looked it over. Sure enough, one wall was significantly longer than its opposite number. He scratched his head for a few moments.

"Make the longer wall part of an alcove, and turn the alcove into a closet for his wife's clothes," he finally decided. "Women never have enough closet space for clothes. You can still make the corners of the house square, and the roof will go on a lot easier that way. You'll wind up with an overhang that will be a perfect place to store extra firewood."

"I can do that," the foreman nodded. "Yeah, it's a little extra work, but that will happen. But what am I supposed to do when he changes something else?"

"Come to me and tell me," Spitelout sighed. "I've been dealing with this stuff since the day he was born."

**o**

"Tell me about your fiancée, Su." Camicazi was very curious. She'd been away for weeks on a quest to find (and steal) some famous gold statuettes of insects, and she had successfully returned with the Golden Fleas. Now she wanted to catch up on the news of the tribe, and the news that her little sister had gotten engaged was definitely number one on her list.

"Oh, he's kind of good-looking, really muscular, pretty good with his weapons when he remembers to watch his back, he's the son of a chief's brother... I guess he's okay."

"Just okay? He sounds like a dream husband!"

Su gazed at her sister speculatively. "Do you want him? The more I learn about this deal, the more I'm losing interest. I'll let you have him if you want."

"Not a chance in Niflheim!" Cami burst out. "I'm not the marrying kind! You must know _that_ about me!"

"It was worth a shot," Su shrugged. "I mean, he could be the perfect Viking husband for a traditional little Viking wife, but I'll never be that traditional little Viking wife, and _you_ must know that about _me!_ If we could skip the stupid ceremony and get straight to the part where he admits I'm superior because I'm a girl, I might even look forward to being married."

"I can't help you there," her big sister grinned, "but I can give you something else to look forward to. It's time for a little tradition that Mom probably hasn't –"

"No! Not _another_ tradition!" Sukiaqui burst out. "I'm going to suffocate and die under the weight of all these traditions!"

"Relax, Sis, you'll like this one," Cami smiled patiently. "As I was saying, Mom hasn't mentioned this one because it gets passed down from older sister to younger sister. You'll get to pass it on to Nagi some day, just like I'm passing it to you."

"Aha! There's a flaw in your so-called logic!" Su exclaimed. "If it's passed from older sister to younger sister, then where did _you_ get it?"

"From our aunt, Average Chested Chelsea," Cami explained. "She put me through it about a year and a half ago, and I'm sure she told Mom all about it when I didn't handle it as smoothly as she thought I should have. I promise, I will not breathe a word about _your_ performance to Mom unless she has to organize a rescue mission or something."

"That's nice," the younger sister sighed. "So, since I obviously can't escape, tell me about this tradition of yours."

"It's called the Midnight Skulk," Camicazi told her. "The two of us sail over to your fiancée's home island, I drop you off at night, you sneak around in the darkness for at least an hour to get familiar with the place, and you steal something that proves you were there. All without getting caught, of course. Then you meet me and we sail home again."

"That might be the most normal-sounding tradition I've ever heard of," Su said with rising hope. "What kind of something am I supposed to steal?"

"Anything that's obviously not from the Bog-Burglars. It could be their chief's helmet, or a shield with Berk's tribal symbol painted on it, or anything like that. It's up to you. The fun part is finding something like that in the dark, in a strange place. It's a real test of your burgling skills."

"Wait a minute, Cami. You've never been married, so how do you know about this tradition?"

"Our Aunt Chelsea knew I was in no hurry to marry, and she figured you'd find a husband before I did. So she put me through the Skulk among the Meatheads as a trial run, so I'd know how to take you through it when your time came. When my own time comes, I'll have already done it once, so the real thing should be easy."

"But your skills weren't up to it the first time?" Su was surprised to consider that.

"There was nothing wrong with my skills," Cami said indignantly. "It just took me over two hours to find something worth stealing. Like I said, it's supposed to take an hour or so if you're good. Do you think you're good?"

Su understood the hidden challenge in those words: _do you think you're better than me?_ "Let's find out," she grinned. "Tonight."

It was a two-day trip from the Island of the Bog-Burglars to Berk, due to contrary winds. They'd probably make the return trip in a day and a half. Su wore the traditional Bog-Burglar burgling outfit, a tight-fitting black jumpsuit with multiple pockets filled with things that might be useful when you're trying to take something that doesn't belong to you. Each Bog-burglar had her own custom suit; Cami's, for example, included a sword, while Su's suit had a built-in bandolier for three daggers, her own preferred weapon. She also brought a coil of rope, an assortment of lock-picking tools, a tiny saw for cutting metal, a knapsack in case her stolen object was too big to fit in a pocket, and something her big sister disdained to use: a black wool hat to hide her golden hair. It was dark when they reached Berk, but there was enough moonlight to see by, and she did not want to be seen.

"Remember, the point is to get familiar with your new town," Cami said as she grounded their little ship on a rocky beach. "The burgling part is just to prove you did it. Be sure to find out where your new house is being built, and you get bonus points if you can figure out where your fiancée lives now."

"Got it," Su replied distractedly.

"Have fun dodging the night watchman, and make me proud of you!" the older sister concluded. Su jumped ashore and vanished into the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 8

Sukiaqui crept from shadow to shadow, never staying in one place for long. She quickly spotted the flickering torch of Berk's night watchman, and worked her way around him. His patrol plan was absurdly predictable; he was more worried about raiders than skulking burglars. She'd teach him some lessons in proper vigilance soon enough. For now, his predictability served her purposes, so she let him go.

The first thing she noticed was that many of the houses and shops had dragons sleeping on the roof, or next to the door. She avoided those buildings! None of her people knew much about dragons, except how they were extremely dangerous and should be killed on sight. She'd never been close enough to a dragon to develop any personal phobias about them; to her, they were just big, fierce animals that should be avoided. Berk had apparently found a better way to co-exist with them, but she had no idea how that worked, except that it was making her task difficult tonight. If any of those dragons had good noses, they might smell her, wake up, and raise an alarm, or they might attack her. Either of those would be bad. It complicated her task of exploring the town, but she was a good Bog-Burglar and she knew it. Her skills would keep her out of trouble (she hoped). She kept her distance from most of the dragons, and tried to stay downwind of the ones she couldn't avoid. A few of them raised their heads and watched her alertly, but relaxed when she made no move against the houses they were guarding. She tried to relax as well, but it was hard with those big, fire-breathing reptiles watching her every move.

Berk was laid out pretty much the same as her hometown, with the tradesmen's shops and public buildings in the middle and the houses around the outside. Their Mead Hall was set into a cliff, and seemed to be bigger than the Hall she was used to. She eased a door open and looked inside. She was right – it was quite a bit bigger. That meant Berk had more people in it. This could be useful information for somebody someday. It would simplify her task if there was something here that she could burgle, but all she saw was tapestries on the walls, which would be uniquely Berkish, but heavy and unwieldy. Dodging the night watchman with one of _those_ in her arms would be a challenge she wasn't ready to accept. She closed the door quietly and kept moving.

The smaller houses of the less prosperous Vikings were close to the center of town, while the more successful people lived further out. The biggest house stood by itself near the top of a hill. That would probably be the chief's house. That, too, was useful information. When it came time for her to burgle something to prove she'd been here, she could definitely do worse than something that belonged to their chief! But no – that might make a bad first impression on the leader of her future home town. She didn't want to start her new life answering to a chief who was already keeping a watchful eye on her. She'd find something unique, but not something that would cause those kinds of problems for her.

She found their dragon training ring, off by itself on the outskirts of town. At least, she thought that's what it was. It was built like a training ring, and a two-necked Hideous Zippleback was sprawled in the middle of the stone floor, snoring in discordant harmony with itself and with the huge Monstrous Nightmare that lay against the wall, on its back with its paws in the air. But all the holding-pen doors were open, as was the main gate. Why didn't the dragons flee when nothing was holding them back? Were these some of Berk's sort-of-tame dragons? If they were, then why were they in the training ring and not perched on a roof someplace? Something here didn't make sense, but she doubted she could figure it out in an hour. She scooted away before the dragons caught her scent and woke up.

She circled the entire town twice, just to make sure she hadn't missed anything. She easily located a house under construction; that would probably be the house that Snotlout was building for her. It seemed to be big enough for a chief's daughter. She couldn't tell if it would be showy enough because the exterior details hadn't been added yet. She'd been in her new hometown for close to an hour, she guessed. It was time to find something worth stealing, abscond with it, and rejoin her sister. She was close to a fairly new-looking longhouse with no dragon on the roof, so she'd check there first. The door wasn't locked. They were making it easy for her!

The glow of the firepits gave her enough light to navigate by, but not enough to make out details of things. A couple was asleep in the one bed with their arms wrapped around each other. On the floor next to the bed was some kind of metal apparatus with a spring in it. She'd never seen anything like it, and had no idea what it was for. But it was distinctive, so it served her purpose. She lightly grabbed it, turned, and crept back toward the door.

She never made it. The doorway was suddenly blocked by something big and black, with angry green eyes and shiny white teeth. _Lots_ of shiny white teeth. It growled menacingly. She backed off a step, trying to control her panic and looking for another exit… and that was when the double-bladed axe whacked into the door, less than half a foot from her head.

"Don't move or you're dead," came a strong female voice from beside the bed. The woman was on her feet and had another axe in her hand, ready to throw. The man was sitting up, but was making no attempt to stand. That was strange, but it was a detail she'd sort out later.

She began to reach for a dagger, then remembered that these people would be her neighbors in just a few weeks. Starting a fight to the death might not be the best way to start her new life as a citizen of Berk. That eliminated all her options except one. She raised her hands, helpless and humiliated. She'd been caught! Her sister would never let her live this down.

"Step away from the door," the woman ordered. "And slide that metal device back over to my husband." She did so. He grabbed it and… Sukiaqui's humiliation deepened. Of all the things she might have stolen, she'd chosen a one-legged man's artificial leg! Could anything else go wrong tonight?

"That's better," the young man said, and stood upright. "Now sit down on the floor and put your hands on top of your head. You're lucky Astrid gave you a warning shot. I can promise you, if she throws that axe again, you'll be a dead thief."

"I'm not a thief! I'm a burglar!" Su burst out, her pride wounded in spite of her situation. "They aren't the same thing at all!"

"They sound the same to me," the woman said.

"No, wait a minute," the man cut in. "Are you a Bog-Burglar?"

"Yes," she nodded reluctantly.

"Okay, that explains why you stole something worthless, but why are you here in the first place? Berk has no quarrel with the Bog-Burglars. In fact, we're going to have an alliance with them soon… wait, hold on, let me think…" He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. "Are you here because of that alliance?"

"If you mean one of your people is going to marry one of ours, then yes, that's why I'm here," she half-confessed.

He lit a lantern and held it in front of her face, and frowned. "Sukiaqui?" he asked.

"Should I know you?" she wondered, feeling more lost and out of control with each passing moment.

"I used to hang around with your big sister Camicazi when we were younger. You've changed a lot since the last time I saw you, but when you said you were a Bog-Burglar, that was a good clue. Astrid, this is the girl who's going to marry Snotlout!"

"The poor thing," Astrid said, almost sympathetically.

The boy nodded. "Now, would you be so kind as to tell me why you were stealing my leg?"

She folded her arms and glared at him. She'd never kept track of her big sister's friends from other tribes, so she didn't recognize this young man at all. Whoever he was, she wasn't about to make life easy for him.

"Fine," the woman said. "We know you're going to marry our friend in a few weeks, and we don't want to cause problems with his family, or with another tribe. But we don't like it when people make our stuff wander away. Here are your choices. One, you tell us everything we want to know, and give us a good reason why we should let you go. Two, we wait until the morning and let the chief deal with you. He doesn't know the difference between thieves and burglars, and he doesn't like either of them. Or three, we can tie you up and fly you back to your mother's house in broad daylight so everyone on your island knows you failed at whatever you were trying to do."

"Choose wisely," the man added.

She thought. It didn't take much thinking. Admitting her mission was definitely the least of the three evils, seeing how she'd been caught anyway.

"I'm scouting my future home town," she confessed unhappily. "It's a tradition among us. I was supposed to burgle something unique to prove I'd been in the town. I had no idea that was your leg, or I would have picked something else. I feel bad about that part."

The woman looked her over. "So you're Snotlout's fiancée. He told us he likes you already. I can see why."

"Jealous?" Su challenged her. This woman would _never_ get a nickname like Su's mother's nickname, that was for sure.

"Of you? Never! I like the way I am," the woman snarled. "My name's Astrid, and we're going to be neighbors soon. I know you Bog-Burglars think you're the greatest thing since rye bread, but _you've_ got a few new lessons to learn. Lesson One is, nobody messes with my husband. Not even the detachable parts of him."

"Lesson Two," the man added, "is that Astrid is the queen bee on this island, and nobody messes with her, either." Astrid smiled at him. Sukiaqui alternated between glaring at her captors and glancing nervously at the doorway, which was still full of big nasty pointy teeth.

"I have a feeling she doesn't believe us," the man said to his wife. "What do you think? Should we teach her Lesson Three, about not messing with our dragons? Maybe we should take her up on dragonback, and let Toothless or Stormfly spin her until she can't tell up from down."

"_Dragonback?!_" Sukiaqui blurted out. So all those improbable rumors about Berk and dragons were true! She looked at the doorway again, with its vigilant, toothy guard. That one must be Stormfly, she decided, because it sure wasn't toothless.

Astrid leaned over until she was right in Su's face. "That's right, we ride dragons, and we love it. So do they. That spin-ride on Toothless was one of the very few things I've done on a dragon that I _didn't_ like. I don't think you'll like it, either. Are you _sure_ you want to get on our bad side?"

"Fine, I admit it, you've got the upper hand this time," she snarled.

"What will happen if we send you home empty-handed?" the boy wondered.

"I'll be even more humiliated than I am right now."

"Hiccup, you're not thinking we should _let_ her steal something?" Astrid burst out. He leaned over and whispered in her ear for a few seconds. Astrid covered her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," she said to Su. "We're going to take you to a particular house, and you're going to give your word of honor that you're going to burgle something from that house and _only_ that house. If you do that, we'll turn you loose and go home, and you can get off this island any way you like. If you _won't_ give your word, or if you try to go back on the deal, we'll go for the maximum-humiliation route. That's not how we'd like to treat our friend's future wife, but you have to settle in your head that _you_ are not calling the shots around here."

"I suppose you two _are_ calling the shots?" Su demanded.

"Hiccup is the future chief; he can call any shot he wants," Astrid replied, and watched their captive's eyes widen. She'd avoided the chief's house, but she'd tried to rob the chief's son instead! If there was any other way she could make a bad impression on her future home, she didn't want to know about it.

"I accept," she grunted.

"Your word of honor, please," Hiccup ordered.

"I promise as a Bog-Burglar that I will do exactly what Hiccup and Astrid say."

"No, swear by Nocha," he demanded.

"Why don't you believe me?" Su shot back.

"Because I've dealt with Bog-Burglars before," Hiccup replied easily. He turned to Astrid. "Cami explained to me once that, in a society that's based on thievery and trickery, there has to be some way to assure someone that you're telling the truth. That's why they swear by the name of Nocha, the first Bog-Burglar woman to become chief and turn her tribe from man-centered to woman-centered. A Bog-Burglar who breaks her Nocha oath will be put out of the tribe and can never return." He turned back to Sukiaqui. "Either you swear by Nocha, or we'll tie you up in a blanket and drop you on your mother's front steps at sunrise. What will it be?"

After a long moment, Sukiaqui growled, "I swear by Nocha that I'll do what you say."

Hiccup glanced at his wife. "That was like pulling teeth! Snotlout is really going to have his hands full with this one."

"Does he know about that Nocha oath?" Astrid wondered.

"Probably not," Hiccup replied, "and I don't think we should tell him. Not right away, anyway."

"Hiccup, you can't be serious!" Astrid exclaimed.

"Hiccup, _are_ you serious?" Sukiaqui wondered. Whose side was he on?

"When Astrid and I got engaged, Snotlout tried to use that situation to discredit me and take my place as heir to the chieftainship," Hiccup explained. "He's had a few chances to admit it wasn't a good move, but all he does is lament how close he came to the top of the tribe. I'm not the type to pay him back for what he's done, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it if someone else puts him in his place." He pointed at Su. "_You_ are going to put him in his place! I just know it. The two of you are probably going to make more fireworks together than a disturbed dragon's nest. You'll give him the payback that I won't give him myself. And I am going to love every moment of it! I'll tell him about the oath someday, but at the outset, I'm just going to enjoy the show."

"Should I be thankful for small favors?" she asked, still mystified where her captors were coming from.

"Yes," Astrid answered. "This is the first time I've _ever_ seen him want to settle his score with Snotlout, and believe me, it's quite a score. And I'll admit, the idea of seeing Snotlout meet his match sounds like a lot of fun. But first things first. On your feet, burglar!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 9

_A/N_  
><em>Somewhere in the past day or two, this story passed the 3000-hit mark. That's pretty good for a fanfic where Hiccup isn't the star. Thank you, all of you who have read this and are still reading it. We're about 13 of the way through the story._

**o**

"Toothless, let us out," Hiccup said to the teeth in the doorway. The teeth snorted and didn't back off. "It's okay, bud. She's probably going to be a friend one of these days." The teeth snarled quietly and then backed away. She realized that this black creature had probably been on the roof all along, but she hadn't seen it in the darkness. They marched out, with Hiccup in front, Sukiaqui behind him, and Astrid bringing up the rear with her axe at the ready. Su considered making a break for it. She knew she could outrun the man with the metal leg, but she wasn't sure about the woman, and she could never outrun that axe.

"Toothless doesn't trust you," Hiccup said over his shoulder, "but he doesn't dislike you, either. He's a pretty good judge of character. If you can set aside the part about being a Bog-Burglar, and just be a girl, you and Snotlout can probably be happy together."

"When Muspelheim freezes over!" she retorted.

"It's your choice," he shrugged. "If you want to be unhappy, endlessly fighting to be the boss and never succeeding, no one can stop you."

"Of course, we'd like to see our friend happy," Astrid chimed in from behind her, "so that will affect how we treat you."

Sukiaqui nearly shot back a sarcastic reply, but she bit it back. Something her mother had said during the Thing came back to her. "Find some girl friends in your new village as soon as you can," she'd said. If this Astrid was as influential as she seemed, she could be a valuable friend indeed. Su hadn't exactly gotten off to a good start with her, but Hiccup clearly wasn't the vengeful type, and Astrid seemed willing to follow his lead. She wondered for a few seconds how anyone with an under-developed sense of vengeance could get anywhere in Viking society, even if he _was_ a chief's son. Then their little group stopped in front of a nice-looking house with no nearby neighbors, just shops on either side.

"This is the place you're going to rob," Hiccup announced. "Sorry, I meant burgle. I'd recommend that you look in the basement rather than on the ground floor." Astrid giggled at that. This made Sukiaqui suspicious, but she figured she could wiggle out of any trouble they were setting her up for.

"Are we going to see you again on this island?" Astrid demanded.

"Not until it's time for the wedding," Su retorted.

"Good," yawned Hiccup. "We've had enough adventures for one night. We're going back to bed. Remember your oath." They turned and left her.

She watched until they disappeared in the darkness, lobbed some dark thoughts in their direction, then turned and examined the house. It was built like most other Viking houses in this region. The fact that it had a basement marked it as the home of someone fairly wealthy; most Viking houses just sat on the ground, with no foundation. She eased the door open and looked around. The glowing firepit gave her enough light to see the general layout of the place. A man and a woman snored lustily in their bed in a corner. In the opposite corner, a stone stairway led down into darkness. She crept over to it, avoiding any floorboard that looked like it might creak, and sneaked downstairs.

Here, a smaller firepit shed even less light than upstairs. It took her half a minute to acclimate her eyes to the darkness, then looked around. It seemed to be a man's room, and the snores from the bed certainly sounded manly. There was a helmet hung on the bedpost – a perfect souvenir of her visit to Berk. She lifted it... and stared at it, trying to make out details in the dark. Where had she seen those horns on a helmet before?

This was Snotlout's helmet! She was robbing her own fiancée! Crazed thoughts rushed through her head too quickly for her to act on any of them.

__If I get caught in my fiancée's room, one of us will probably get killed. Everyone will think we were breaking the rules together or something.__

__Hiccup and Astrid must have quite a sick sense of humor, to set me up like this.__

__Maybe they're setting up Snotlout, not me. They called him a friend, but they didn't seem to like him all that much.__

__I can give him back his helmet as a wedding present. ____That____ will rattle his cage!__

__Well, I was supposed to find something unique, and then leave. This is unique. I'm leaving.__

She almost stuck the helmet in her backpack… but then she saw something even more burgle-worthy. Snotlout could keep his helmet, for now. She tucked her prize up into her tunic (it wouldn't fit in her backpack) and crept back upstairs. Just as she eased the front door open, she saw an approaching glow. The night watchman! She shut the door, waited five endless minutes in someone else's house, and tried again. The coast was clear. She left Berk and found her way back to the secluded cove where Cami was waiting.

"You beat my time, but not by much," her sister said as they pushed the boat off the beach into the water. "What happened out there?"

"I ran into some complications," Su admitted.

"Please tell me a man didn't catch you!" Cami almost begged. Her family pride was at stake!

"No, a man didn't catch me," Sukiaqui said. After a long pause, she confessed, "A girl caught me."

Camicazi did a double-take. "A _girl?_ Berk must be growing a better crop of girls than the last time I visited this place. How did you get away?"

"I kind of talked my way out of it," Su said.

"Kind of?" Cami wondered. "What does that mean?"

"Well… did you used to know a boy on Berk named Hiccup?"

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III? I haven't seen him in years!" Cami exclaimed. "Yeah, I used to know him. We had some fun times together. He was okay, for a boy. But you said a girl caught you."

"He's married now," Su exclaimed. "He picked an axe-thrower for a wife, but they seem to like each other a lot. She's the one who got me."

Cami considered that. "I guess it's not so shameful to get caught by a woman warrior. Now, what did you mean by you talked your way out of it?"

Su hung her head. "Hiccup knew about the Nocha oath. He made me swear that I'd take one thing from one specific house and leave. Once I did that, they let me go."

"I never could figure Hiccup out," Cami nodded. "He was an odd one from the day he was born, but like I said, he's okay. So, what did you burgle?"

Su slipped the purloined sword out from under her tunic and unsheathed it. Cami examined it by moonlight.

"Pretty nice. Do you have any idea who it belonged to?"

Sukiaqui smirked. "Until very recently, it belonged to my fiancée."

Cami nodded in admiration… and then her mouth fell open. "Did you just steal his _wedding sword?_"

Her little sister shook her head vigorously. "No, this is _my_ wedding sword! _He's_ going to have to make other plans."

Cami could barely contain her mirth. "You're going to give him his own blade, as _your_ blade, as part of the ceremony? He's going to hit the roof!"

"Not in the middle of his own wedding, he won't," Su smiled. "He wouldn't dare disrupt the ceremony like that. He'll have to wait until later, and I'm hoping he won't be so mad by then."

"Clever," Camicazi agreed. "If you hadn't gotten caught, it would have been the perfect burglary."

"Do you _have_ to remind me about that part?" Su pleaded.

"Relax – this is just between us sisters," Cami answered. "Mom is never going to hear about it, and neither is anybody else. As far as I'm concerned, you did great. Not perfect, but great."

"Has anybody ever done it perfectly?" Su wondered.

"Not that I've ever heard of," her sister replied. "Something always goes wrong. If anyone had ever done it perfectly, our relatives would wear us out with 'Why couldn't you do it like So-and-so did?' "

"I'm sure you're right about that," Su agreed. She was starting to feel a little bit better about her experience.

Cami settled down to business. "Now, we'll be sailing home all night, and I'm not going to give you a moment's peace until I've heard the whole story, so you might as well tell it to me. All of it."

Again, Sukiaqui yielded to the inevitable and told her sister everything. Cami chuckled at parts of the tale, and shook her head at other parts. Finally, she decided, "It sounds like you just got a bad break, picking a house with a guard-dragon that you couldn't see. If Berk has lots of guard-dragons, that's going to make your burgling difficult. Do you have any ideas for how to get around that?"

"The only thing I can think of is to make myself smell like a dragon, so the dragons won't notice me," Su decided. "If you want to know how I'm going to make that happen, the answer is, 'I haven't the slightest idea'."

"Still, it sounds like the start of a plan," Cami nodded in approval. "You passed the Midnight Skulk test." She glanced back toward Berk and smiled. "Now we'll see if Berk can pass the Volcanic Eruption test, when your fiancée wakes up and can't find his sword!" The rest of the ride home was uneventful.


	10. Chapter 10

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 10

The Bog-Burglars' best ship bounced and rocked on the choppy sea, flying a colorful sail with the chief's pennant whipping back and forth at the masthead. It was not heavily laden; it carried a captain, twenty rowers (in case the wind failed), the chief, her husband, and their three daughters. The chief's husband and four of the rowers were the only men on board. The male rowers were there mostly because the bridegroom would need some good advice about how to live with a Bog-Burglar woman. They glided silently into Berk's harbor and docked at the pier that was decorated with garlands and banners. They were bringing their tribe's first ambassador to Berk, and they were also delivering a young man's bride for her wedding. All of Berk's prominent citizens met the ship at the docks for this festive occasion.

Stoick watched them tie up at the docks and murmured to his friends, "Keep one hand on your money pouches." Then he shouted, "Worthy Bog-Burglars, welcome to Berk! We have spared no expense to make your stay here a pleasant one! We thank you for your friendship and openness!"

"Mighty Berk warriors!" Bertha shouted back. "We are honored with your good wishes, and hope that this day marks the beginning of a new day of trust and cooperation between our tribes!" Then she murmured to the others in the ship, "Don't burgle anything today. Wait a day or two, until they lower their guard." She was the first to step ashore; Stoick took her hand and helped her off the ship, then quickly checked the pouch that hung from his belt. The rest of the Bog-Burglars disembarked, glad to have dry land under their feet again, and stood in a nervous cluster on the docks. There was no animosity between the tribes; the Bog-Burglars clustered nervously because, if they weren't supposed to be burgling, they didn't know what else they should be doing.

"I'll entrust you to Spitelout, my second-in-command, who also happens to be the father of the groom-to-be," Stoick went on. "He will guide you to our guest quarters, which I'm sure you will find agreeable. I have to solve some important problems that involve the reception and can't wait, but I'll check on you before supper and make sure everything is acceptable." Bertha nodded, and Stoick strode away, with Gobber close behind him.

"Bog-Burglars, if you will follow me, please?" Spitelout called, and led them up the ramps and across town to the village's guest home. It had been built for the Meatheads while they were in town for Hiccup's wedding to Thora, and hadn't seen much use since then. When they arrived, Spitelout waited outside while the chief and her daughters checked out the house and pronounced it acceptable.

"Is there anything else you require before supper?" Berk's second-in-command asked Bertha.

"No," Bertha replied sweetly, "but I found this at the Thing after you left. Could it be yours?" She pulled his shield out of a cloth bag and held it out. He snatched it back with an irritated expression and stormed away.

"Why didn't you keep it once you took it?" asked Naginatta, her youngest daughter.

"Because it wasn't worth anything," her mother replied. "If it was valuable, or if it was important to him, he'd never get it back. But it was just a shield, and the fun I got from watching his expression was worth a lot more than the shield was. Remember that, girls. Don't just choose your target when you're burgling; choose the best way to handle the outcome as well. Always go for the best value, whether that means cash value, historical value, vengeance value, or entertainment value." Her daughters nodded as they spread out and claimed beds to sleep in. The rowers were busy setting up their tents outside; the guest home could never hold all of them.

"We've got a few hours to kill before suppertime," Bertha decided. "Let's explore the village. Cami, you spent some time on this island years ago, so you can give me a tour. Su, it's _possible_ that you _might_ know something about this village, so you can show Nagi around. Remember, stay out of trouble!"

"Which means 'don't get caught,' right?" Nagi asked innocently.

"No, it means 'don't try anything'," her mother corrected her firmly. "The wedding is tomorrow, and then we've got a five-day-long reception. _That's_ when we have a little fun, not today! Today, we impress them and surprise them with how honest we can be."

"Lull them into a false sense of security," Cami added.

"Exactly," Bertha nodded. "Today, we act like fine, upstanding citizens. Tomorrow, we enjoy the wedding. After that… we are Bog-Burglars!" She grinned menacingly. Her progeny nodded.

Sukiaqui led her eleven-year-old sister Naginatta around the town, stopping often to check out interesting-looking buildings (and to confirm her impressions of the town, now that she could see everything in the daylight). Nagi was even more nervous about the dragons than Su had been, but they made no moves to harm anyone, so the girls just took the long way around any houses that had a huge winged lizard on the roof. When they found the local leather-worker's shop, Nagi wanted to go in.

"I promise I won't try anything," she told Su. When her sister didn't budge, Nagi added, "I promise by Nocha." Su nodded and led them in.

Like most Viking tradesmen, Gutrumble the leather-worker didn't keep an inventory of finished goods for sale. Nearly everything he made was made to order. But sometimes someone would change his mind about a purchase, or find himself unable to pay, and Gutrumble kept those leftover items on display. They served two purposes – they showed off his workmanship, and they were available for purchase if a traveler passed through the town. There were plenty of travelers in town this week, due to the wedding, so he'd put all his handiwork out for the public to view. Nagi's eye was drawn to an unusual shoulder bag with a longship tooled into the leather. It was meant to hang from one shoulder like a backpack, but by adjusting the strap, it would also serve as a lady's handbag.

"Twenty-six coppers," the leather-worker informed them as Nagi tried out the bag.

"Twenty-six for _that?_" Su exclaimed. "Look at the cover flap – there's a big imperfection in the leather. This isn't worthy of a chief's daughter!"

"Any chief's daughter would be _glad_ to wear this on an expedition," Gutrumble burst out. "That so-called imperfection gives the leather character."

"Character or no character, it's not worth twenty-six coppers. We'll give you fifteen."

"What?! Fifteen coppers for this unique piece? May the fleas of a diseased yak infest your firstborn! I'll take no less than twenty-four."

"You leave my firstborn out of this," Su growled. "Twenty-four coppers would buy three of these back home. We're only looking at it because my sister wants a souvenir of our visit here. Seventeen." By the time Su was done negotiating, she'd talked him down to twenty, and he'd thrown a tiny coin purse into the deal as well. Nagi left with her purchase, well-satisfied.

"Mom sure taught you well when she taught you how to haggle," she said to her older sister.

"Actually, I learned haggling from Dad," Su replied. "He does all the buying for the family in the marketplaces. Everyone knows he's the chief's husband, so they figure he's got plenty of money to spend, and they try to gouge him on their prices. He's gotten very good at turning bad deals into good deals, and I've learned a few things from him. What are you going to do with that bag?"

"I'll have it dyed black and use it as part of my burgling outfit," Nagi replied. "I don't want my gear to be just the same as yours and Cami's, and now I've got something unique to carry my purloined stuff in. Pretty soon, I'll be as good a burglar as you are!"

"That's big talk for someone who's about as stealthy as a Gronckle in a pottery shop," Su teased her. They argued back and forth about their respective skills until they saw the local Vikings headed for the Mead Hall, and realized it was time for supper.

The Bog-Burglars ate together in one end of the Hall, apart from the Berk Vikings. They weren't trying to be rude. The social rules said that Sukiaqui and Snotlout weren't allowed to spend time together while they were engaged, and all of the Bog-Burglars had the same thought – "Su can't mingle with the Berks or she might bump into her fiancée, so she has to eat separately from them, and she might wind up all alone if the rest of us mingle with our hosts, so I'll sit with her and make sure she has some company." This made the Berk Vikings slightly nervous; they also shared a common thought – "What are those Bog-Burglars plotting against us?" The meal was quiet, with little of the boisterousness of a typical Viking party.

As the daughters of Bertha lay on their beds afterward, Nagi asked her sister, "What's it like to be almost married?"

After thinking for a second, Su replied, "Part of me wants to run away, part of me wants to find Snotlout and beat him over the head with something big, heavy and medieval, and part of me wants to find him and... well, you're too young to hear about that part. I don't feel like the girls in the fairy tales at all."

"We all know the fairy tales aren't true, right?" Cami chimed in.

"Yes, but dreams die hard," Su answered.

"Get some sleep, girls," Bertha called from the next room. "Tomorrow is going to be a long, busy day." Cami thought she heard her mother whisper, "And then Su is going to have a long, busy night."

**o**

Meanwhile, Snotlout was spending his last night as an unmarried man in the company of his male friends. He was still stinging from the multiple lectures and scoldings his father had given him after his wedding sword had mysteriously disappeared (he'd had to buy a war-surplus blade from Gobber to replace it), and he preferred to be someplace other than home right now. "Do you guys have any last-minute wisdom for me?" he asked nervously.

"Keep her in her place!" Tuffnut smirked. "Talk down to her, don't put up with any girly nonsense, make sure she knows you're the boss, maybe smack her around a little, and you won't have any problems."

"Just like you don't have any problems with Ruffnut, right?" Hiccup asked innocently. Fishlegs tried to stifle a laugh behind his hammy fist, but they all heard him snort.

"Okay, big genius, what's _your_ advice?" Lout demanded of him.

"Well... you understand it's all theory to me," Fishlegs began, "but your dad has been married a long time, so if he gave you any good advice, you probably ought to do what he says."

"That's three votes for 'put her down,' and Hiccup hasn't told us how he's voting yet." They all stared at him. He was the only one of the four who was married, but he was still far from the Viking ideal, so they weren't sure how seriously they should take his advice.

"One of the first things I learned when I got married was that I couldn't get my own way all the time," he said slowly. "If I gave a little, she was willing to give a little. That meant –"

"That's not the Viking way!" Tuff interrupted. "We're supposed to win!"

"Exactly," Hiccup nodded, "but when you're married, either you win together or you lose together. If you only think about yourself, you might feel like you're winning, but you'll never be as happy as you might have been if you made _her_ happy, and she made _you_ happy in return. Lout, we all know your dad, and we can guess what kinds of advice he's been giving you. I know you feel honor-bound to do what he says. But if his advice doesn't work, remember what I just told you. If you give a little, she'll probably give a little."

"And if I give a lot?" Snotlout asked.

"Your father will disown you!" Tuff answered, and everyone had to nod "yes" to that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 11

The big day was here. It was Sukiaqui and Snotlout's wedding day.

Both bride and groom traditionally began the wedding with a ceremonial washing in their respective bath houses, surrounded by friends and family. The friends and family had the important job of explaining to the bride-to-be and groom-to-be the ins and outs of being married and getting along with a spouse. Why they waited until the busiest, most stressful day of a young person's life to pass on this important information, no one knew. But it was tradition. Part of this information was the Viking version of "The Talk." This was supposed to be a young man or woman's first exposure to the facts of life... if they knew what was good for them.

Viking morals were very conservative and traditional, and the penalties for violating that moral code could be severe. A person's virtue was a reflection of his or her family's virtue. A Viking boy who compromised a girl's purity was seen as degrading her entire family's reputation, and that family would usually respond with drawn weapons. The same applied to a girl who enticed a boy into breaking the rules. Moral lapses did occur, probably a lot more often than most Vikings realized, but they were usually hushed up to avoid lethal consequences. In the case of both the bride and the groom in today's wedding, that was a good thing.

About a year and a half ago, a traveling tinker and his teen-aged daughter had visited Berk for a day and a night. She'd had more than a little mead with her supper, and was unaccustomed to the strength of Berk's brew. Snotlout had taken her for a walk around the town afterwards. His intentions were to keep her entertained and to show off how awesome he was. Okay, maybe he might steal a kiss if he was really lucky, but nothing more; his father had indoctrinated him well in the Jorgenson family values, and the price he might pay for breaking the rules. But the mead helped her forget the meaning of some lofty intellectual concepts like "no," and one thing led to another before he really knew what was happening. He hadn't hesitated to brag about her to his friends (who didn't believe him), but as time went by, he felt vaguely bad about the whole thing. Still, unlike most Viking boys his age, he knew exactly what was expected of him as a man on his wedding night. Like any healthy young man, he was very much looking forward to it.

As for Sukiaqui, it was common among high-ranking Bog-Burglar girls to experiment with boys, to find out what they were good for, and she was no exception. One of those experiments had gotten out of control and gone a lot further than either of them had intended. She'd been terrified that they would be caught in the act, and in the weeks that followed, she'd had a pregnancy scare that brought her experimenting days to an abrupt end. When she looked back on the whole episode, she decided that she might be able to enjoy that kind of thing if she could do it without worries, which definitely meant getting married first. But as her wedding day approached, she discovered a brand-new worry: what if her husband and his honor-obsessed family expected her to be a pure maiden, and took it as a family insult when they found out she wasn't? The idea of intimacy without fear seemed as far away as ever. She wasn't looking forward to it at all. It might be the death of her.

There was another problem. Each of them was bathed and counseled by a mix of Vikings from Berk and from the Bog-Burglars, and their advice for the soon-to-be newlyweds was completely contradictory. The men from Berk did their best to tell Snotlout the same kinds of things his father had been telling him for years, about ruling his house and keeping his wife in her place, while the men from her island counseled him to take it slow, work out the relationship, and not try to be dominant or she'd make him sorry. In the women's bath house, the Berk women advised Sukiaqui to let the man be the man and support him any way she could, while the Bog-Burglar women urged her to take control of her husband as soon as she could, so he'd adjust to his new life more easily. Bride and groom both thought they knew how they were supposed to handle this marriage, but the contradictions bothered them. They just weren't used to the possibility that there might be more than one way to do what they were about to do. For Snotlout, that meant he had to sort out _three_ ways of being married, if he included Hiccup's advice.

Once they were bathed and counseled to their relatives' satisfaction, Su was led back to the guest home by the women, and Snotlout was hustled back to his new house by the men. There, each of them was dressed in their best clothes for the ceremony. Su's preparations took longer because the women had to fuss over her hair and her makeup and get all those details just right; the groom had no such worries. Once they were looking their best (and made even more nervous by all the delays), the two wedding parties met in the grove that was the best that Berk could offer by way of sacred space.

The wedding ceremony, like most major Viking life events, would normally be conducted by a Gothi, but because Berk's Gothi could not speak, they kept a lesser priest handy for times like these. The priest, Peatcooker by name, spent most of his time helping the fishermen, because if he didn't, he would have nothing to do most of the time. A day like today was his day to shine, and he tried to make the most of it. Unfortunately, he had a slight slip of the tongue and started his invocation to the gods by saying "Mawwiage" instead of "Marriage." The guests had to bite their own tongues to keep from laughing out loud. The rest of the rites were uneventful to the point of being monotonous. The bride and groom didn't pay much attention to the prayers and sacrifices. They were more concerned with checking each other out. Both silently came to the same conclusion – their parents had picked a good-looking spouse for them, and they earnestly hoped that their spouse was as pleasant on the inside as on the outside.

Once the religious part of the ceremony was over, Bertha took charge. With two chiefs present, both of whom were related to a member of the wedding party, there had been some back-and-forth over who would be in control. It was almost a parody of the man-against-woman tension that would certainly plague the new couple. They'd eventually resorted to flipping a coin, and decided that the chief of the Bog-Burglars would conduct the actual wedding, and Stoick would handle the five-day-long reception party.

"Present the swords," Bertha commanded. Camicazi, as the bride's attendant, stepped forward with a sheathed sword, as did Tuffnut, the groom's attendant. Each drew their blade and passed it to the bride and the groom. That's when Snotlout and Spitelout recognized the bride's sword as the one that had disappeared out of the groom's apartment a few weeks ago. Snotlout went a bit pale as he realized she had probably swiped it while he slept, and his father turned purple with rage. But, as Su had predicted, neither of them dared to say anything in the middle of the ceremony. Su wrinkled her nose and grinned at her husband. He had to admit, she really looked cute when she was getting the better of him. _At least that accursed sword is staying in the family,_ Spitelout thought.

They balanced their partners' wedding rings on the pommels of their swords, passed the swords to their partners, and, after a moment's hesitation, put on the rings. Then they exchanged their vows, which were both masterpieces of lofty-sounding deception and double-talk, promising devotion and kindness when they were both intending to take control of the other. Su had written her own vows, while Snotlout had turned to Fishlegs for help – creating writing was not his best subject.

"I believe it's now time for the traditional run to the Mead Hall," Bertha announced. That meant a foot race between the bride's side of the party and the groom's side. The losers would wait on the winners when they got to the Hall.

"Berk is too small and crowded a town for the traditional race," Stoick answered politely. "We will all walk to the Mead Hall, and the Hall's attendants will wait on all of us." He declined to admit his real reason – he assumed the Bog-Burglars would win by cheating, and he didn't want to lose to a bunch of women. The two groups formed two lines, with a chief in front, followed by one-half of the (presumably) happy couple, that person's main attendant, and then the rest of the guests from that tribe. They filed up the hill side-by-side, exchanging suspicious glances with each other, and up the steep stairs into the Mead Hall.

Here, bride and groom faced two challenges that could determine the success or failure of their marriage. She had to step over the threshold of the Hall doorway without tripping, and he had to throw his sword so it sank into one of the wooden pillars that held up the roof. A failure in either task meant bad luck for the rest of their lives together.

They had no difficulties. Sukiaqui was used to controlling her footsteps, due to her burglar training; stepping over a three-inch threshold posed her no problem, even in a dress. Somehow she managed to look ladylike as she did it. As for Snotlout, he'd been practicing with his weapons ever since he was strong enough to lift them. He hefted his blade (with which he was totally familiar), paced off ten steps from the pillar, and without turning to face it, he flipped the sword back over his shoulder. The blade flew end-over-end and sank into the pillar with a firm "whack." Everyone cheered wildly. The Vikings of Berk knew he could do things like that (on a good day), but didn't think he'd dare try it at his own wedding. The Bog-Burglars had no idea of what he could do, and they were very impressed, even Sukiaqui.

Then it was time for the part she was dreading – the presentation of the mead. She'd memorized that stupid poem as best she could, but something in her mind rebelled against putting herself in such a subservient position, and the result was that her memorization worked about half the time. She claimed the tankard from the head cook at the kitchen door, walked carefully to the head table where her husband sat expectantly, and began to sweat as she recited:

"Ale I bring thee, thou oak-of-battle,  
>"With strength blended and brightest honor;<br>" 'Tis mixed with magic and mighty songs,  
>"With goodly spells, and… and… uhh… wish-speeding runes! I did it!"<p>

A few of the guests laughed nervously. Snotlout just smirked as he took the tankard from her and took a deep drink from it; his father and the chief nodded in approval. She reclaimed it from him and took a much smaller sip. She figured she'd be drinking toasts to herself and her husband all day; the last thing she wanted was to drink enough to get tipsy, or worse, to get sick. Her mother nodded in approval.

Now, at last, they brought out the food, and the feast began. The Berks and the Bog-Burglars ate the same kinds of meals (mostly fish, with some chicken and ham now and then), so nobody had to get used to a new kind of food. She hadn't eaten much for breakfast, and it had been a long, busy morning, so she was quite hungry. Among the Vikings, there was no such thing as "ladylike" or "gentlemanly" at the table; the one who ate the slowest got the least to eat. She noticed that Snotlout was also tearing through his meal with great enthusiasm. _That might be the first thing we have in common,_ she thought between bites.

After the first course was done, Stoick produced his favorite war hammer. _Oh, no, here we go – another stupid tradition,_ Su thought. She dutifully pushed her bench away from the table and allowed the chief to lay his hammer in her lap. It was his turn to recite:

"Bring the Hammer the bride to bless:  
>"On the maiden's lap lay ye Mjolnir;<br>"In Vor's name then our wedlock hallow!"

_Why do they bless a bride with a war hammer?_ she wondered to herself, not for the first time. _And what does a hammer have to do with blessing my baby-making parts?_ Then the word "baby" registered in her mind, and she felt a chill. She glanced at Snotlout, who was leering at her with unfeigned interest. _He'd love to start a baby in me,_ she realized. _It would show everyone else what a man he is. Would he care at all how I feel about it?_ She didn't know. She was much relieved when the chief reclaimed his hammer and the cooks brought out more food.

After the meal was done, the tables were cleared away for dancing, speeches, re-enactments of famous sword fights, and all the other parts of a big Viking party. The highlight of the reception came when Tuffnut stepped into the middle of the room and loudly announced, "I am the reigning king of _flytings_ on Berk! Does anyone want to try and dethrone me?" Snotlout nearly said something, but it wasn't his place – he was one of the guests of honor, so he wasn't expected to take part in the ritual exchange of insults that made up a _flyting_. To the surprise of everyone on Berk, Camicazi stood and accepted his challenge.

"Does she know what she's getting into?" Astrid whispered to Hiccup. "Tuffnut can get really crude."

"I know Cami," Hiccup whispered back. "This probably won't take long. Don't bet any money on Tuff."

Tuff cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "A girl? No problem! I've been exchanging insults with girls ever since I was born! Right, Ruff?"

"Right!" his twin sister shouted back. "And you've lost every exchange!" People laughed. That wasn't a good start to his _flyting_.

"Anyway, we're glad you made it to the party, Camicazi," he went on. "We'd hate for a vicious Viking warrior like you to be late because you spent too much time fixing your hair!" That joke might have worked on the bride, or on most other girls, but Cami's hair was the same wild, untamed blonde tangle it had always been. No one laughed.

She just smirked. "You're a good one to talk about hair, Tuffnut. _Your_ hair is so filthy, when it brushed against the fried chicken on your plate, the _chicken_ got greasy!" That got a low-key laugh from the audience. Ruff didn't laugh because she thought it was true.

They went back and forth for about five minutes, with Tuffnut falling further and further behind in the audience's estimation of who was winning. He finally resorted to a comment about how sad it was that Cami would never earn a nickname like her mother's. A few of Berk's men found that mildly humorous, but to Cami, it was a low blow.

"Just explain one thing to me, Tuffnut," she growled. "Why is it, whenever you walk into a sheep pasture, all the ewes run away from you in fear?"

"Well, at least –" His answer was drowned out by the hoots and howls of laughter of everyone else in the Hall. Tuff slinked back to his seat; even he could recognize defeat when it hit him between the eyes. It didn't help when Ruff asked him, "Does that really happen?" Cami strutted back to her bench in triumph, where the praises of all the guests from her tribe awaited her.

Snotlout leaned over and whispered to his bride, "Do you sling insults like that?"

"No," Su admitted. "Cami's in a class by herself. Even our mother can't match her once she gets rolling. I never enjoyed insulting people like that. What about you?"

"Well, the last time I went up against Tuffnut in a _flyting,_ half the people thought _I_ won," he said, trying to sound modest while he was bragging. "But I only do that to people who really deserve it." She decided to take that as reassurance that he wouldn't fling insults at her, and resumed enjoying the day's entertainment.

At last, long after the sun had set, it was time to escort the newlyweds to their new home for the most important part of the wedding process. Unlike Hiccup, Snotlout and Sukiaqui were only second in line to become chiefs of their respective tribes, so they were spared the humiliation of a public consummation. Spitelout, his wife Saybull, Gobber, Bertha, her husband, and Camicazi walked with the pair to the house Snotlout had helped build. Su noticed that it had a few architectural oddities, but it looked solid and well-built. The six witnesses confirmed out loud that they positively recognized the bride and groom, and warned them that they'd be back in the morning. Spitelout whispered in his son's ear, "Remember everything I told you!" Bertha whispered the same thing in Su's ear. Then the witnesses left.

It was time for Snotlout and Sukiaqui to face each other and start learning how to be married.


	12. Chapter 12

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 12

"Okay, first question," Su's brand-new husband demanded. "_How_ did you get your hands on my sword?"

"Ancient Bog-Burglar secret," she replied mysteriously. "I can't tell you."

"Do you have any idea what I went through to get that sword?" Snotlout exclaimed. "The time, the effort, the humiliation?"

"I went through some humiliation when I got it, too," she answered thoughtfully. "Maybe we should name it Niðurlægingarsverðið, the Sword of Humiliation."

"What do you mean, 'we'?" he blustered. "It's _my_ sword! It was mine to start with, and you just gave back it to me, remember?"

"Yes, and whatever is yours is also mine," she reminded him. "We're married now, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah." That took the wind out of his bluster. It also reminded him that they were, indeed, married, and this was their wedding night, and they'd done nothing so far except argue about swords. He gazed at his lovely bride and had a quick attack of nerves. How should he get this thing started?

"So," he finally said. "Here we are."

"Yup, we sure are," Su nodded. She looked around the house that was now hers. The floorboards were brand-new and still slightly rough; a few months' foot traffic with heavy Viking boots would take care of that. All the furniture looked and smelled new. The only decorations were a shield on the wall and a wooden carving of a Monstrous Nightmare on one of the chests of drawers; she'd soon improve on that situation. A thick tree trunk had been carved into a stairway that led up to a loft above them. The central fire pit was freshly stoked with pine logs, which snapped and crackled as they burned. The bed was thick with furs and blankets. It looked like a cozy place to call "home." She reminded herself that, for her, it _was_ home now.

He noticed her looking around. "Do you like it?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," she agreed. He seemed to relax a bit. So he liked praise and compliments, did he? She remembered her mother's words at the washing this morning – "Men like Snotlout do not _have_ egos. They _are_ egos." She walked around, opening and closing a few drawers, examining the closet (which was full of _his_ stuff, a state of affairs that would not last long), and checking out the kitchen and storage areas. The house needed some feminine touches here and there, but it would do.

Snotlout sat down on the bed and patted the bedclothes beside him. "Maybe you should check out this part next."

"I'll get there," she said distractedly. She wasn't going to rush into this thing. She'd get there eventually, but it would be when she was good and ready, not when he told her to do it. She wasn't at all sure when that would happen. She was still scared of the possible ramifications.

"Hey, we've got something important we need to do tonight!" he exclaimed.

"You know what? You're right." She sat down next to him, but when he leaned over to kiss her, she lightly pushed him away. "We need to settle, once and for all, who's in charge in this marriage."

He snorted. "That's me, of course. I'm the man here."

"That's not how we Bog-Burglars do things," she said firmly. "I've been trained all my life that girls are better than boys, and it works just fine for us. Give me one good reason why we aren't going to do that here."

"One good reason." He thought hard. "Okay. You aren't a Bog-Burglar anymore. You just married a man from Berk, namely me, so you're a Berk Viking now. That means we'll do things the Berk way. I'm in charge."

"Once a Bog-Burglar, always a Bog-Burglar," she quoted. "We saw at the reception how a girl clobbered a boy at _flytings_. We saw at the Thing how a woman beat a man at marriage negotiations. And do I _have_ to bring up the little matter of your wedding sword again? Girls are obviously better. I'm in charge."

"No way!" Snotlout exclaimed. "The man is supposed to be in charge! Every Viking knows that."

"I didn't know that," she replied patiently.

"Well, where have you been all your life?" he demanded.

"On Bog-Burglar Island," she said matter-of-factly.

Snotlout paused and ran his eyes across her. She'd seen plenty of other boys look at her that way; she knew what he was thinking, and wondered how she might take advantage of it this time. "Look, I'd like to settle this as much as you do," he said urgently, "but is that the most important thing we ought to be doing? If we keep going back and forth like this, then we won't… we won't do what we're supposed to do tonight, and that means we aren't legally married. Do you want to tell that to the witnesses in the morning?"

"It won't bother me," she smiled, but it wasn't a warm smile. "If we don't consummate, everyone will assume it's because you _couldn't_ do it. Do _you_ want to tell _that_ to the witnesses in the morning?"

He scowled, then smiled. "I'll tell them I never had that problem with other girls, so it must be something to do with you."

It was her turn to scowl. "Well played." Then she turned angry. "Hey, what do you mean, 'with other girls?' How many other girls have there been?"

He clapped his hand over his mouth in horror. He'd said way too much, and he couldn't take it back. "Well?" she demanded. He weakly raised his other hand and held up one fat finger.

"It just happened," he almost whimpered. "I wasn't looking for trouble or anything."

She forced herself to scowl some more, but on the inside, she wanted to leap up and cheer. He'd broken the rules! That meant he couldn't complain when he found out she'd broken them, too. There would be no vengeful Jorgensons dragging her from the marriage bed to the killing ring with their swords drawn. Her greatest fear about her wedding night vanished like powdery snow in a strong wind.

Maybe she might be able to relax and enjoy this, after all.

She allowed her scowl to fade after a few seconds. "I guess it's not that big a deal. I mean, I could hardly expect a handsome stud-muffin like you to be completely untouched, could I?"

He relaxed, very slightly. "Yeah, you're right. But you're really not mad?"

"I'll get over it," she said off-handedly. "But I still haven't heard you admit that I ought to be in charge."

"Are we going to knock our heads together all night long?" he asked.

"My skull can take it," she nodded, almost eagerly. "Can yours?"

"Yeah, but that wasn't very high on my list of things to do tonight." He reached for her again; she slid away and folded her arms. Frustrated, he got up and paced back and forth for a few seconds. At last, he said, "Su, I'm afraid I've been thinking…"

"A dangerous pastime," she smiled.

"I know," he nodded. "I've been taking some heat from my father; he thinks I should be running this show. You've been messing my head as I'm learning what you Bog-Burglars think of a man. Now I'm balanced somewhere between marriage and Hel; do you think we could try a new plan?"

"Like what?" she wondered.

"How about a truce?" he asked.

"A truce?" she echoed him.

"Yeah. You know. We could… do the marriage thing tonight, and settle who's in charge some other day. What do you say?"

She thought about it. This was obviously a stalling tactic. That meant he knew he wasn't going to win this disagreement. Maybe she should hold out for her rights as the head of the household, and not yield until he admitted she was the one in charge? It looked like she had the leverage to do it – he was so eager to get on with their wedding night, he was willing to negotiate on how things would be for the rest of their lives. She had him right where she wanted him.

But the boy who was standing in front of her was supposed to be her husband. If they failed to consummate, for any reason at all, the marriage would be called off and she'd never see him again. Could she hope to find someone better? She doubted it. Certainly, none of the boys on her home island measured up to Snotlout; he had spirit and self-confidence that very few Bog-Burglar boys could equal. Also, _she_ was the one who had practically begged her mother to get this boy for her. If she allowed the marriage contract to go unfulfilled, her mother might not be willing to go to such lengths to get another one for her. In a way, she'd made her bed, and now she had to sleep in it.

He wasn't such a bad guy, after all. He was even willing to temporarily set aside his own demand to be Number One in the marriage. A truce, he called it. Some Vikings would call it half of a surrender. They'd see it as a sign of weakness, and encourage her to go for the kill. But none of those Vikings was here tonight. It was just him and her. Husband and wife. They'd have to work this thing out on their own. He was right about the fact that they had to "do the marriage thing" tonight. He was willing to give a little. If she gave a little in return, what was the worst that could happen?

"Okay. Truce." She held out her hand. He sat down next to her again, but instead of clasping her hand to agree on the deal, he grabbed it, pulled her close, and kissed her eagerly. She started to resist, then changed her mind, and kissed him back even more eagerly. She'd scared off a Bog-Burglar boy or two with that eagerness, but Snotlout wasn't intimidated. Not even a little.

About twenty minutes later, an eavesdropper might have heard a quiet female voice say, "Okay, tell me who's in charge." And a weak male voice would have answered, "You're closer than you were an hour ago."

About twenty minutes after that, the eavesdropper might have heard a quiet male voice ask, "_Now_ who's in charge?" And a weak female voice would have answered, "You are, a little bit, in certain areas, maybe."

When the father of the groom and the mother of the bride knocked on the door to wake them in the morning and bring them to the Mead Hall for the presenting of the morning-gift, there was no need for anyone to eavesdrop. They clearly heard the female voice call, "Can you come back in half an hour?" The male voice added, "Yeah, we're kind of busy here."

Spitelout turned to Bertha. "I'm tempted to go in anyway. I didn't raise my son to tell his father 'no.' The sooner we fulfill this contract and seal the deal, the happier I'll be." He rested his hand on the door latch.

"Don't you dare!" Bertha burst out, and slapped his hand away from the latch. "They'll get there eventually, and we'll be in-laws, and then you can relax. If they're... uhh... busy, that means they're getting along, and that's good. I was worried that they might kill each other during the night."

"No Jorgenson would ever do such a thing!" Spitelout exclaimed.

"Maybe not," Bertha replied, "but a Bog-Burglar might."

"Then I guess it's a good thing my son is turning your daughter into a Jorgenson, right?" Spitelout smirked.

Bertha didn't answer. She just mentally noted which side of his belt he carried his money pouch on.

**o**

_A/N  
>To all the readers and reviewers who wished for a reunion scene between Hiccup and Camicazi: I couldn't write a scene like that, for the simple reason that I haven't read all the books, so I don't know much about their adventures together. Sorry.<br>__  
>If you're wondering whether Snotlout's little speech was inspired by the song "Gaston" from "Beauty and the Beast," then the answer is "Definitely yes." (I'm especially good at song recreating.)<em>


	13. Chapter 13

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 13

The two of them eventually made it to the Mead Hall, where Su received her morning-gift from Spitelout (a coffer of silver coins, a year's worth of wool from his flocks, and a gray coat made from wolf fur) and the marriage contract was fulfilled. It was done. The two of them were bound together for life. They still hadn't determined how that was going to work. But now that the legalities were all finished, Snotlout had something to do that was almost as important as being married.

"I have to take Hookfang for a ride every day," he explained to his new bride. "Otherwise, he might forget that I'm the one who's in charge."

"Who's Hookfang?" she asked. "That's a strange name for a pony."

"Hookfang is _not_ a pony," Snotlout said indignantly, "and he'd get really mad if he heard you say that. Hookfang is my dragon."

"Your dragon," she nodded indulgently.

"I told you I ride a Monstrous Nightmare, didn't I?"

"Yes," she agreed, "and it was such a clever little tale, it caught my imagination. If you hadn't told me such a cute story, I might not have asked my mother to pursue you, so I'm glad you made it up. Of course, nobody actually _rides_ Monstrous Nightmares, even in their wildest dreams! Now, seriously, what are we going to do this morning?"

"I _am_ serious!" he burst out. "If you don't believe me, then come with me and meet him! You're going to have to make friends with him anyway."

"Fine, I'll humor you," she sighed. She put on her boots and followed him across town. It looked like he was headed for their dragon-training ring. Was he seriously going to try and convince her that he could ride one of the training dragons? She knew that many of the villagers had watch-dragons guarding their houses at night, but to _ride_ a dragon? Ride a _Monstrous Nightmare?_ Ha! This ought to be good.

They arrived at the ring. Again, the entrance was wide open. That would have been unthinkable on her own island. But that was a minor detail compared to what was inside the ring. She recognized a Gronckle, a blue Deadly Nadder, the Zippleback and the Monstrous Nightmare she'd seen during her Midnight Skulk, and something black and evil-looking that she'd never seen before. Then it saw her and bared its teeth. She _knew_ those teeth – those were the teeth she'd seen in Hiccup's doorway during her Skulk. She still didn't know what it was, though. She also saw five of the teens from this island – she knew Hiccup and Astrid, Tuffnut had been her husband's attendant, Tuff's sister Ruffnut had antagonized her brother throughout the entire reception, and there was a big young man she hadn't met yet.

And the teens were just mingling with the dragons! There was no fighting! No fire! No fear! She knew that Berk had some kind of peace with the great lizards; she could see the evidence on the roofs of half of the houses in town; but the sight of dragons and young warriors in a training ring together, not fighting, might have been the most bizarre sight she'd ever seen. No, cancel that. The big young man was scratching behind the Gronckle's ears, and the Gronckle... licked him. _That_ was the most bizarre sight she'd ever seen!

"Hey, Snotlout," Hiccup called. "We weren't expecting you this morning."

"Are you taking a break from your honeymoon so soon?" Astrid added.

"Yeah, you know how it is," Snotlout shrugged. "I had to give her a rest." Su snorted in disbelief, as did Astrid.

"Sukiaqui, it's good to see you again," Hiccup winked and went on. "I think you know everybody here?"

"Everyone except this one," she replied, nodding at the big boy.

"Sukiaqui, this is Fishlegs," Astrid introduced them. "If you want any details about dragons, he's the one to talk to."

"Hey! I know plenty about dragons!" Snotlout burst out. The others nodded tolerantly.

"Anyway, we're just going for a simple flight around the island this morning," Hiccup continued. "Sukiaqui, I assume you're riding with your husband?"

She froze. "You mean… _ride_ on a dragon? _Really_ ride a dragon?"

"Not just _any_ dragon, babe," her husband corrected her. He strode over to the Monstrous Nightmare and stroked its nose horn. "You're riding _this_ dragon!" The Nightmare rumbled in what might have been pleasure.

She tried to make herself focus on what was happening in front of her. The thing's head was bigger than she was! The very idea of riding a dragon… and yet these other teens were climbing onto the other dragons' backs with no fear at all. The dragons didn't resist them or try to buck them off, either. Snotlout had climbed onto the huge thing's neck.

"Come on! What are you waiting for?" he called.

"Uhh, how do I do this?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Just climb up behind me and hold on tight!" he smiled. "Sometimes he doesn't do exactly what I tell him the first time."

"Is this… Hookfang?" He certainly looked like a Hookfang.

"I told you I ride a Monstrous Nightmare, didn't I?"

"I didn't believe you," she confessed.

"Well, believe it, babe. When Snotlout tells you he's awesome, it's always true. Now hurry up before the others leave us behind!" He held out his hand; she took it and tried to swing up onto the reddish neck. The dragon pulled away, growling slightly.

"What's wrong with you, Hookfang?" Snotlout demanded.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know me," she wondered.

"Maybe," Snotlout nodded. "Try rubbing his nose and looking confident. That's how you make friends with a Nightmare."

"Can he tell if I'm lying about the 'confident' part?"

"No, just act brave; that's all he cares about."

Sukiaqui, as a chief's daughter, had been trained to be brave in all kinds of situations, including a small amount of dragon training. Her tribe's training arrangements weren't as fancy as Berk's, probably because her island wasn't raided very often by the dragons, so learning to fight them wasn't so important there. If the Bog-Burglars managed to catch a dragon alive, they would tie its mouth shut, bring it to their training ring, chain it to the ground with iron chains, then untie the mouth. Young warriors would take turns approaching it, warding off its flame with their shields if necessary. When all the warriors-in-training had had a chance to practice being brave, the adults would kill it, rather than waste precious food to keep it alive; they could always catch another one later. Apparently, Berk had kept a stable of captive dragons for training purposes. Now they had a stable of _tame_ dragons, and she was expected to make friends with the biggest one.

The huge head faced her defiantly. She gazed back at it, trying to hold eye contact. "Hi, dragon. I mean Hookfang. I'm Sukiaqui, and I'm going to be… I mean I'm Snotlout's riding partner now, and… Snotlout, if I talk to it, how much can it understand?"

"I'm never sure," Lout answered. "Sometimes I think he plays dumb so he can get away with stuff. _No_ dragon could actually _be_ that dumb!" The dragon glanced back at him and shook its head, which nearly sent Snotlout flying. Obviously, it understood what its rider had just said! Su decided to take the high road.

"Anyway, Hookfang, would it be all right if I rode on you today?" The dragon looked at her; its eyes registered surprise at first, then something that might have been approval. It rumbled and gave her hand a nudge – not a big shove that would have sent her flying, just a push that seemed to say, "You passed my test." She walked back and swung onto the dragon's neck without any other problems, except it was hard to walk when her knees were shaking. She felt the thing's neck muscles tighten under her...

...and then they were in the air. Su found herself clinging to Snotlout for dear life. Then she looked down and saw the land and sea from above, for the first time ever. Above her were the clouds, and they looked closer than they used to. The other dragons were all around her, each one flapping and gliding to its own rhythm. She thought, _Why am I acting afraid? I'm __not__ afraid! This is __awesome__!_ The other riders were totally relaxed and enjoying themselves. She decided she ought to join them.

She had pinned up her hair that morning, because that's what Viking ladies did once they got married. Now, she unpinned it and stuck the pins in her pocket. The wind whipped her hair straight back behind her. It felt wonderful! She kept one hand on Snotlout's shoulder for balance, but she felt no fear of falling off. She fought the urge to whoop with delight because none of the other riders were doing it. Neither Hiccup nor Astrid could miss the huge smile on her face, though. For the next half-hour, she just exulted in the newfound thrill of flight.

"What do you think of dragon-riding, babe?" her husband asked as they landed.

"I could do this," she nodded. "Every day. Several times. Maybe we could go faster next time?"

"If it's speed you want, then you need to ride with me on Stormfly," Astrid boasted. "We are the queens of speed on this island!"

"You're the fastest?" Su wondered.

"No, they're the _queens_ of speed," Hiccup corrected her with a sly look. "Toothless is the _king_ of speed, and _nobody_ can catch _him_." Astrid repaid him with a dirty look.

"What, exactly, _is_ Toothless?" Su asked him.

Hiccup patted the evil-looking head affectionately. "He's a Night Fury. Maybe I should say he's _the_ Night Fury, because he's the only one we've ever found."

_A Night Fury?!_

Su could vividly recall the second-to-last time the dragons had raided her island. They were holding their own against the Nadders and Gronckles, until someone shouted, "Night Fury! Get down!" Moments later, a purple fireball sent a team of warriors flying through the air as everyone else ducked for safety. Their defenses never recovered after that; the dragons pretty much took whatever they wanted. One dragon had altered the course of the entire battle. That one dragon was now standing right in front of her, alternating between gazing happily at his rider and watching her alertly. She glanced at Hiccup – his slender build, his mild expression, his mechanical leg. This boy had tamed and befriended the most frightening dragon of all?

"How come _you_ didn't get the most awesome dragon?" she asked Snotlout.

"Hiccup got there first," Lout shrugged. "I got the biggest one, though."

"Except for the Red Death, of course," Fishlegs chimed in. "But no one can ride one of those."

"I rode it for a minute or two, remember?" Lout shot back.

"Not willingly," Tuff interjected.

"Yeah, you couldn't _wait_ to get off of that thing!" Ruff added.

"Technically, he's right," Fishlegs said thoughtfully. "He did ride on its head and beat on its eyes with _my_ hammer. I guess he does have bragging rights that he's ridden the biggest dragon."

"Fishlegs, please!" Astrid burst out. "The _last_ thing we want to do is give Snotlout an excuse to brag!" She was too late. Snotlout had gone into his celebration dance, shouting, "Yeah! Snot-lout, Snot-lout! Oi, oi, oi!" Su decided that this was _not_ her husband's most impressive move.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked the group. "How do you train a dragon?"

"Courage," Snotlout answered.

"Food," the twins said in unison.

"Love," Fishlegs suggested.

"Calm strength," Astrid replied.

"Trust," Hiccup added. "It's different for each kind of dragon. We got some help from the Book of Dragons, but mostly, we made it up as we went along."

An idea struck Su. Then another idea, and another one. Slowly, she asked, "Can anybody train a dragon?"

"If Snotlout can train a dragon, then _anybody_ can do it!" Ruffnut smirked.

"If you mean, can _you_ train a dragon, the answer is 'probably yes'," Hiccup said. "You'll want to start by talking to Fishlegs about the different kinds of dragons, and pick one that will be right for you. Then we'll all help you train him."

"Or her," Astrid cut in. "Many dragons are girls, you know."

"And many guys ride girly dragons," Tuff added, jerking his thumb at Fishlegs, who ignored him.

"I'll definitely think about that," Su said, and she meant it. There were three major-league thoughts vying for space in her mind already.

_If I made off with Snotlout's dragon, that might be the biggest theft in Bog-Burglar history! I could be famous!_

_If I rode _Snotlout's _dragon a lot, I bet I'd smell like a dragon. Then I wouldn't alarm the watch-dragons in this town, and I could do some serious burgling without reptile interference._

_If I trained my own dragon, I could go flying any time I wanted. I could go flying..._

Thought Number Three was definitely winning.

After the newlyweds wandered away, Hiccup pulled Astrid aside. "Do I see a new dragon-rider in the making?" he smiled.

"Yes, you sure do," she nodded, "and the sooner, the better."

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

Astrid matched his smile. "Isn't it obvious? The more time and energy she spends on training a dragon, the less time and energy she'll have for stealing our stuff."

"Yes, my love, you're completely right," he nodded. "Maybe we should encourage her a little."

"She doesn't look like she needs much encouraging," Astrid replied. "We should just tell her what she needs to know, and then get out of her way. I'll bet you a copper that Fishlegs is going to be her best friend for the next few days."

"No bet," Hiccup said flatly. "But if she starts spending time with Fishlegs, will that make Snotlout jealous?"

"Knowing Snotlout, you're probably right," she agreed. "We'll have to keep an eye on them. Once she knows what kind of dragon she wants, the problem will take care of itself. Do you think she'll go for a Nadder? Or a Nightmare?"

"I have a funny feeling she's going to make her own path," Hiccup answered. "Don't be amazed if she trains something new."


	14. Chapter 14

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 14

The wedding guests continued to celebrate Snotlout and Sukiaqui's wedding for five more days. Berk had hosted such parties before, and they were usually uneventful. But there was something different about this inter-tribal celebration. One by one, little things began disappearing all over the island. Anyone on Berk who suddenly lost something had a good idea who was to blame; it was just a question of finding out which Bog-Burglar was responsible. If one of her people actually got caught, Bertha would order that burglar to give back what she'd taken. If the Berk Viking also wanted an apology, or punishment, or a promise not to take anything else, the female chief would give him a scornful look. "Be thankful you got your stuff back," was her usual reply. "On my island, the rule is 'finders keepers'." Tension between the two groups was rising. Five days was probably the longest time that the two tribes could live on the same island without going to war.

Snotlout and Sukiaqui spent the time doing what all newlyweds do. This surprised no one. The surprise was that they weren't at each other's throats over the vital issue of who was going to be the head of their household.

There was no problem with their indoctrination; each of them was both firmly convinced that he or she ought to be the dominant partner in this deal. But when the indoctrination got in the way of passion, the indoctrination had to move over, and it did, repeatedly. That passion was purely physical; neither of them would have called it love. But it was enough of a motive for them to keep extending their truce, and to delay for another day the decision that they both thought they had to make. Considering their circumstances, they were adapting to married life quite quickly. The uncomfortable feelings that go with marrying a near-stranger fell rapidly in the face of teen-aged Viking hormones.

Spitelout had an agenda for his son. He missed no opportunity to make his point, over and over again. "So, son, how do you like married life?" he would ask him.

"It's awesome!" Snotlout would answer.

"Have you put her in her place yet?" the father would ask.

"Yeah, I guess she's in her place," the son would reply. Snotlout was being evasive; when he said "her place," he meant "our house," which was, truthfully, the place she was supposed to be. He knew that wasn't what his father meant, but being completely honest would have started a fight, and Snotlout had decided that he really wanted to make love, not war.

Bertha also had an agenda for her daughter. "Have you done any interesting burgling?" she would ask her.

"I'm waiting for the perfect opportunity," Su would answer.

"This _is_ the perfect opportunity!" her mother would exclaim. "You've got a dozen Bog-Burglars on this island for the rest of the week. If you make off with something now, they won't know who to blame. Once we all go home, they'll know exactly who to blame if something goes missing. Quit stalling and do what Bog-Burglars do! Make me proud!"

"You'll be proud when I'm done," Sukiaqui would reply. Her big burglary plans involved finding a dragon of her own, and training and riding it daily so she'd smell like a dragon to the other dragons. As Astrid had predicted, she turned to Fishlegs for information. And as Hiccup had predicted, that made Snotlout jealous.

Snotlout watched his wife and the bigger boy step into a side room in the Mead Hall one morning, counted to twenty (he went through all his fingers twice), and burst in, shouting, "Aha! Caught you!" He had, indeed, caught them... sitting on opposite sides of a table, talking about dragons. They were quite startled at his sudden entrance, but not at all embarrassed.

"Snotlout, honestly! I'm just asking him about dragons, that's all!" she exclaimed.

"We weren't doing anything bad," Fishlegs added.

"I told you, you can ask _me_ any questions you have about dragons!" Snotlout nearly shouted. "You don't have to go to _him!_"

"Last night, I asked you about Zipplebacks, and you didn't even know how many tails they have!" she retorted.

"One," he answered.

"Two," she rebutted him.

"Snotlout, you see Barf and Belch every day!" Fishlegs squeaked. "Are you telling me you never noticed they have two tails?"

"Who has time to look at dragons' tails?" Snotlout said dismissively. "Only dragon nerds, and nobody else! Su, the next time you have a question about dragons, you ask _me,_ and nobody else! Okay?"

She nodded sadly. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble, Fishlegs," she said as she got up and left. Once she was gone, Snotlout turned to his friend with barely-controlled rage.

"If you so much as touch one scale on my wife's hide, then I swear by all my Jorgenson ancestors, I will –"

"Snotlout, she doesn't _have_ any scales!"

"How would _you_ know?" Lout demanded.

"Let's just call it an educated guess," Legs stammered.

"Educated, shmeducated! Just leave her alone!"

"Okay, I'll try not to talk to her," Fishlegs nodded nervously, and got up and left in haste. That left Snotlout, still angry, but with no one left to take it out on. He stormed away.

Once he was gone, Su hesitantly approached Hiccup, whom she found in the Hall, eating a late breakfast. "Hiccup, I know we didn't exactly get off to a good start, but... can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied. "I might not answer, but you can always ask."

"Can I borrow your Book of Dragons for a while? I wanted to go over it with Fishlegs, but just talking to him caused problems."

"Snotlout problems?" Hiccup asked sympathetically.

"Maybe it was too soon after the wedding to spend time with another guy, even if it was completely innocent," she nodded. "But I'd really like to learn more about dragons, and ... could I borrow the book? Please? It won't be a burgling; I swear by Nocha I'll give it back intact."

"Okay, no problem," he smiled. "It's in our house. Astrid should be there; go ask her for it. Tell her I said it's okay."

"Thank you, Hiccup." _Either he's the most naïve, non-grudge-holding Viking who ever lived, or he's becoming a friend,_ she thought. She knew the way to Hiccup and Astrid's house (unfortunately). A few of her new fellow-citizens recognized her and greeted her politely as she made her way across town. She knocked on the door, hoping that the warrior woman was as forgiving as her husband was.

"Just a minute," Astrid's voice called. She opened the door after a while. "Oh, hello, Sukiaqui." Su caught a whiff of something unpleasant on her breath.

"Astrid, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. It's just a bit of a tummy bug. It'll go away after a few days. Can I do something for you?"

"I'd like to borrow the Book of Dragons, if I could," Su said. "Hiccup said it was okay. Are you sure it's just a tummy bug?"

"Are you always this concerned about the health of your robbery victims, Sukiaqui? I told you, I'm fine!"

"Maybe," Su shrugged, "but where I come from, when a woman gets sick in the morning, it means something."

"I don't know what you're..." Astrid's voice trailed off as she went wide-eyed. "No. _NO!_ I wanted to wait at least a year before we started a family! Gothi gave me a special herbal tea that was supposed to... oh, no."

"Astrid, I don't understand. You obviously love each other, and this is what's supposed to happen when you're married, right? Your parents are going to be happy when they hear about it, your husband will be happy, all the other women in town are going to be happy, so why –"

"All the other women in town aren't _me!_" Astrid snapped. "I'm not the motherly type! I throw axes; I don't change diapers! I wanted more time to adjust to the idea before I had to deal with it." She hung her head and sighed. "Time's up, I guess." Then her head snapped upright again. "If you breathe so much as _one word_ about this to _anyone,_ I promise you, I will personally break your best burgling finger!"

"Not a word from me!" Su exclaimed. "I promise. By Nocha. Besides, it's not my place to spread news like that. I'm not a gossip girl. I'm more like you – I'd rather solve my problems actively."

Astrid looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have that much in common. Well, it's rude for me to make you stand at the door like this. Come on in."

"Will the black dragon make me stay in?" Su asked.

"Only if he thinks you're a threat to me or Hiccup," Astrid replied as they stepped inside. "Besides, he's probably napping on a sunny rock somewhere. Unless he wants to fly, or unless Hiccup needs him for something, he can be as lazy as any other dragon, and that's pretty lazy."

She led them into the sleeping area and pulled a thick book out from under the bed. "This is our tribe's only copy," she said earnestly. "The information in it has been collected over five generations. I'm sure you'll take good care of it, but you need to be aware that it's one of a kind. If Fishlegs wants it for any reason, you have to give it to him immediately."

"That's fair." She took the book and eased it open. "Oh, wow. There are a _lot_ of facts in here! I didn't think it would be this complicated."

"It's not that hard to figure out," Astrid shrugged. She had her hands on her belly, trying to determine if the baby was showing yet, even though she couldn't have been more than a month or two along. "Maybe I'm used to it because I've looked it over so many times."

"I like learning new things," Su nodded, "but I'm not much of a reader. It's too bad Fishlegs couldn't go through it with me." She had a sudden thought. "Would _you_ go through it with me? That wouldn't make anybody jealous."

Astrid considered the possibilities. Her eyes narrowed. "If I go through it with you, will that buy me and my house some immunity from certain Bog-Burglar habits?"

"Sure! You've got a deal." Su hadn't been planning to burgle this house in the near future anyway – not until she'd figured out a way to get around the black dragon with the teeth. They clasped hands on it and sat down at the table with the Book.

"We'll start at the beginning," Astrid said. "Bewilderbeast. We don't know much about that one, except it's very, very big."

"How big is 'very, very big'?" Su asked.

"We don't know; no one on Berk has ever seen one," Astrid replied. "Bork the Bold, who compiled the Book, heard stories from some sailors. That's all we know about Bewilderbeasts. They're very, very big." The Book didn't even have a picture of one, just the dragon's name and the words "Very, very big." Astrid turned the page.

"Boneknapper. Now, _those,_ I know something about! They're large, and they're friendly if they've completed their exo-armor, which is made out of other creatures' bones. If they haven't completed it, they can be nasty and very dangerous. One of them chased Gobber, our smith, for decades, following him to the ends of the earth, trying to get one special bone away from him. Gobber was using it as his belt buckle."

"That sounds nasty, all right," Su agreed.

"Not half as nasty as Gobber's pants falling down when the dragon finally got his bone back," Astrid said with a shiver. "You can probably train a Boneknapper if you can find one, but they're extremely rare, so there isn't much chance of you finding one, unless you've burgled a bone that he wants. Trust me – that would be a really bad idea." Su took a few moments to skim the details about this odd dragon before Astrid turned the page.

"Changewing. Those critters almost tore our village apart, looking for some of their eggs that one of us had stolen. They spit acid instead of breathing fire, they don't like having other dragons around their nest, and they can change color to blend in with their surroundings. I've watched them do it; it's amazing how they can disappear just by standing still in front of something."

"Has anyone ever trained one of those?" Su asked.

"Nope," Astrid replied with a firm shake of her head. "You can't even see them unless they want you to see them. You could be looking right at one, and not even know it. You aren't likely to bump into one, though. They keep to themselves on Changewing Island."

"Changewing Island? What a clever name," Su muttered.

"Yeah, a lot of the islands in the Archipelago are named after the things we find there," Astrid agreed. "Changewing Island, Dragon Island, Fireworm Island, Eel Island, Healer's Island, Yaks-With-Gas Island... believe me, you don't want to get downwind of that one... anyway, you're right about the not-so-clever names. On the other hand, there's Breakneck Bog, which doesn't break anyone's neck and isn't a bog, so you never know. As for the Changewings, they might be trainable, but they don't want anything to do with people, so you'd never get close enough to try training them. Let's keep looking." She turned the page. "Deadly Nadder! My favorite! I almost have this section memorized." As Astrid went on and on about the virtues of Nadders, Sukiaqui's thoughts kept going back to the Changewing.

_A dragon that can disappear at will. That might be the perfect dragon for a Bog-Burglar!_

Their dragon-study session ended when Hiccup walked in the door. "What's up?" he asked.

"I'm just helping Su learn about dragons," Astrid replied. She didn't say the truth – she was helping Su pick out a dragon – because she didn't want Su to think they were pushing her in any particular direction. "Su, if you don't mind, there's something I have to tell Hiccup." Su took the hint, took the Book of Dragons, and headed for the door. But she paused just outside.

She didn't hear what Astrid told her husband, but based on how her visit with Astrid had started, she could guess. Her guess was confirmed when she heard a thump, followed by Astrid crying, "Hiccup! Are you all right? Wake up!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 15

The next morning, as they left the Mead Hall after breakfast, Su pulled Snotlout aside. "I have a question about dragons I'd like to ask you," she said, trying to sound a little bit subservient so she wouldn't pique his curiosity too much, but not _too_ subservient or he'd get the wrong idea.

"Sure, babe. I know all the answers. What's your question?"

"Could you and Hookfang take me to Changewing Island today?"

Snotlout looked stricken. "Did somebody tell you about those Stones of Good Fortune I found there?"

"I don't know anything about those," she answered quickly.

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. Okay. Make sure you don't find out about those. Now, why do you want to go there? There's nothing there except Changewings."

"Exactly," she nodded. "They sound interesting. I'd like to check them out."

"There's three things wrong with that idea," he retorted, holding up four fingers, and folded one down as he made each point. "One, you can't even see them, so you can't check them out. Two, they get really nasty when strangers fly to their island. And three, you don't need Changewings because I've already got a totally awesome dragon that you can ride with me anytime." That left him with one finger still standing up. He looked at it in confusion, and just folded it down after a moment.

"Besides, Snotlout doesn't like Changewings," Tuffnut cut in from behind them. "One of them caught him once and almost loved him to death!"

"It was just a misunderstanding!" Snotlout shot back.

"Hold on a second," Su thought out loud. "The Book of Dragons says Changewings don't like having other dragons around their nest. If the Changewings like _you,_ but they don't like it when strangers fly to their island, then maybe it's just the other _dragons_ they don't like. Maybe they'd be friendly if it was just a person without a dragon."

"Maybe, maybe, maybe!" Lout snapped. "It doesn't matter, because unless you can walk on water, you can't get to Changewing Island without a dragon, so the Changewings will get mad at you no matter how you do it. One thing I know for sure is that you _don't_ want to get a Changewing mad at you."

"Couldn't you just drop me off on the island, and then come back and get me in a few hours?" she asked.

"They could kill you! I'm kind of against that. We just got married!"

She rested her hand on his shoulder and whispered, "I'll give you one more tumble before we go, if that would help."

"Yeah, definitely go for the tumble!" Tuffnut exclaimed. She'd forgotten that he was still eavesdropping. She glared at him until he got uncomfortable and turned away.

Lout blushed scarlet. "Oh, baby, you know what I like!" She concealed a smirk. _What a typical man,_ she thought. _He forgets everything else as soon as the thought of a tumble gets into his head_. An hour and a half later, she was stepping off Hookfang onto Changewing Island.

"Can I come with you?" he asked. "I'd feel better if someone who knows about dragons was with you."

"If I'm right about the Changewings, then it's fine if you come with me, as long as Hookfang stays away," she replied.

"Hookfang, stay here!" Snotlout ordered the huge dragon. He pointed at the ground. "Stay!" Hookfang stared at him curiously. Su had no idea if the dragon would obey or not. If he didn't… things could turn nasty.

They walked slowly, trying not to make any noise. They entered a grove of tall pine trees; the carpet of fallen pine needles muffled their footsteps even more. Su paused to listen. "It's too quiet," she whispered.

"I can fix that!" Snotlout exclaimed, and took a deep breath. She clapped a hand over his mouth and shushed him before he could say any more.

"I was going to ask," he said much more quietly, "how you expect to see a dragon that can't be seen."

"Part of every Bog-Burglar's training is knowing how to see through camouflage," she explained softly. "We play a game called 'Spot the Burglar,' where someone hides herself and the rest of us have to find her, just by looking, without moving around. I was pretty good at it. I figure I can do the same kind of thing here."

"You might be good," he nodded, "but these dragons are better. By the way, if you see a round, shiny, colorful thing, _do not touch it!_ Don't even go near it! Those things almost got me killed last time!"

"Are those the Stones of Good Fortune you mentioned?" she wondered.

"No, they're Changewing eggs," he answered reluctantly. "They're usually up in the trees."

She put two and two together and didn't like the answer she got. "You mean you're the one who stole the Changewing eggs and almost got your village destroyed?" she burst out.

"Don't shout it all over the island!" he hissed. "If they recognize me, I could be toast!"

"Then why did you want to come along on this expedition?" she demanded.

"Because I'm worried about you!" he retorted. "You don't know much about dragons yet, and I want to take care of you!"

She smiled in spite of herself. "Snotlout, that might be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me. Of course, we've only been together for a few days, but still, I appreciate the thought."

He looked embarrassed. "Well, don't tell anybody about it, okay? I've got a reputation, you know." She nodded, amused, and they kept walking. He stayed very close to her; she wasn't sure if it was out of protectiveness or fear.

She was looking all around for signs of invisible dragons. The picture in the Book of Dragons showed a unique-looking creature, with eyes on short stalks, blade-like sideways horns, long leafy-looking antennae, and a prehensile tail with similar leaf-like spines. It wasn't a small dragon, either. How could something like that make itself invisible? Yet everyone she'd talked to had insisted that the Changewing could blend in with anything. Until she could prove them wrong, she'd watch and see. Right now, all she was seeing was trees and rocks.

"Can you see any dragons?" she whispered.

"No," Snotlout whispered back, "but that doesn't mean anything. There could be twenty of them watching us right now, and we'd never know it." She stopped and listened. She thought she'd heard the sound of something rustling in the undergrowth, but she saw nothing. This was like "Spot the Burglar" stepped up to the pro level. She realized she should be afraid of these invisible dragons, but the challenge of trying to see them outweighed the danger in her mind.

They wandered around the island for over two hours. They saw nothing but trees and rocks. Some of the trees had those shiny colorful objects balanced in their branches; they gave those trees a wide berth. Several times, Su was sure she'd heard something nearby, but she never saw a thing. Snotlout never relaxed for a moment; he nearly jumped out of his boots at the sound of his wife stepping on a twig.

"I guess they don't want to be friendly," he said at last.

"They aren't being hostile, either," she replied. "It looks like I was right about them disliking other dragons, but not people. That gives me hope that I could train one, if I could only find one."

"Why do you want to train one of these useless lizards?" Lout burst out. "What's wrong with the dragon you've already got?"

"He isn't mine," she answered. "He likes me, or maybe he just puts up with me, but he's _your_ dragon. Now that I'm not afraid of them, I want one of my own."

"I bet you wish you could just steal one, huh?" he said archly. "Do Bog-Burglars want everything they see?"

"It's not a Bog-Burglar thing," she replied. "It's a Sukiaqui thing. I'm the second sister in my family; I've never been first in line for anything. Just once, I'd like to be the first to accomplish something. Astrid says nobody has ever ridden a Changewing, so I want to be the first one to do it, as well as the first Bog-Burglar to train a dragon of any kind. As for wanting everything I see..." She waved her arm around at the trees and rocks. "There's a little bit of a problem with that."

"Yeah, I see that," he agreed. "I mean, I don't see that. I mean... whatever! Can we go now? This place gives me the creeps."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "I guess they're all out fishing or something. Maybe we can come back some other day and try again?"

"What's the point?" he asked. "I can think of better things to do with our time." He winked at her exaggeratedly.

"Is that all you ever think about?" she said, trying to sound irritated.

"It's all I ever think about when you're around," he answered with a smile, and rested his hands on her hips. "Let's go home and act like newlyweds – what do you say?"

"Why go home?" she purred. "It looks like we've got this entire island to ourselves..." Once again, he forgot about everything except that one thing.

Half an hour later, she opened her eyes contentedly and looked up. She went rigid. Three big red Changewings were staring straight down at them, with a fourth one a short distance away.


	16. Chapter 16

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 16

The Changewings were fascinated by the scene in the clearing. The two humans had been wandering all over the island, causing no harm, oblivious to the concealed dragons who were watching them. Then, for no apparent reason, they had shed their outer coverings and done something together that no dragon had ever observed before. The Changewings didn't even have a frame of reference to try and understand what they were seeing.

Cutfang was the first to break cover and show his colors. He was always the curious one; when the Egg-stealer had taken their eggs, he was speculating on what the human's reasons might have been, even while he helped tear the Viking village apart to find those precious eggs. He crept quietly toward the two humans, who were completely focused on what they were doing, to the exclusion of all else. They didn't even notice as a forty-foot-long red dragon sneaked up on them. Cutfang's mate, Graybottom, didn't want him facing a pair of humans with unknown intentions all by himself, so she broke cover and joined him. Thornytail, the thoughtful one, also joined them, and finally, Spotwing also showed her colors, in her usual clumsy fashion. The first three kept getting closer until they were standing right over the humans, staring down at them. Spotwing kept her distance, unwilling to get too close to the other three, but she very much wanted to see more.

Suddenly, the one on the bottom (Cutfang thought that one might be a female) gasped and cried out something in her own language. The three dragons pulled back slightly, not sure if the soft pink creatures meant to attack, even though they had no visible weapons. The other human rolled over, screamed in a lower-pitched voice, and then froze.

"Maybe the one on top was doing some kind of life-saving treatment on the other one," Thornytail suggested. "It sounded like she was in pain a few minutes ago."

"They showed no signs of distress before they started," Cutfang replied. "They could have been mating."

"But why would they travel all the way from wherever-they-came-from to our island just to mate?" Graybottom asked. "It doesn't make sense."

"If you ask me," said Spotwing quietly, "I think –"

"We didn't ask you," Cutfang said harshly, "and we don't care what you think!"

"We can't force you to accept your banishment," his mate added, "but your insistence on acting like nothing's wrong is only making things worse for you!"

"On the day one of us gets hurt on account of you," Thornytail hissed, "you'll get a lot more than banishment! Now get out of here before you really make a mess of things!" Spotwing cringed and backed off a few steps.

Meanwhile, Cutfang turned back to the one he thought was the male. There was something familiar about him. The dragon put his head right down to the trembling human's chest and sniffed. He sniffed again. There could be no doubt.

"Thief!" he snarled. Then he roared, "You're the _Egg-stealer!_" He and the other two bellowed menacingly at the male, who scrambled to his feet and ran away screaming, without his outer covering. They chased him, deigning to stay on foot rather than take to the air, but hiding their colors as they ran so he couldn't see them. Blobs of acid hit the ground on both sides of him, blackening and sizzling the undergrowth; a few droplets of spray hit the backs of his legs, which encouraged him to run even faster. They weren't trying to kill him – he wasn't posing a threat, and they were civilized dragons, after all – but they wanted to convince him that leaving here and never coming back would be the smartest decision he could ever make. Once he got to his dragon, they let him climb aboard and take to the air. Oddly, the pair didn't high-tail it over the horizon, but circled the island at a distance.

"It must be because he left his mate behind," Cutfang realized.

"That makes sense," Graybottom agreed, "but what are we going to do about it? The mate can't stay here, but we can't let _him_ land on our island again!"

"Maybe we could encourage the mate to wade out into the shallows, and let him pick her up there," Thornytail suggested.

"That sounds wise," Cutfang nodded. They turned back toward the clearing. They took their time, as they discussed how to "encourage" the Egg-stealer's mate to wade out into the shallows at minimum risk to themselves.

Meanwhile, back in the clearing, Spotwing slowly approached the female human. That human had put her outer coverings back on when the other three dragons vanished; now she stood still and watched as Spotwing stepped closer.

"I wish there was some way we could communicate with each other," the dragon said. The human replied with some sounds that meant nothing to a dragon. But she held out her hands to show that they were empty. That seemed to be a peaceful gesture. Spotwing took another step. The human's posture did not suggest fear any more than it suggested aggression, and those were the only two ways the dragons had ever seen humans react to them.

They were just a few feet apart now. Spotwing bent down; the human raised one hand, palm out. Did she want the dragon to smell her hand? Spotwing did so, and found no evidence of fear, anger, or any other negative emotion, just a slightly salty smell that might be a human's natural aroma.

To Spotwing's amazement, the human reached out further and laid her hand on the dragon's nose.

Spotwing was an outcast among her kind. Those huge spots on her wings had a defect with their hue-changing ability; they took several seconds to change color, rather than the near-instantaneous changes that the rest of her (and the rest of her kind) could achieve. They made it hard for her to hide herself on short notice, and the other Changewings were afraid that those spots might give away their own locations as well as Spotwing's some day. For the safety of the group, she had been firmly asked to leave this island and live elsewhere. She had refused, because she had nowhere else to go, and because she was a social creature, like all dragons. She didn't want to be alone; even the company of dragons who didn't want her around was better than no dragons.

Now this human was apparently trying to befriend her.

The Changewings knew that some dragons allowed humans to ride them, including the Egg-stealer's Nightmare friend. They had no idea what sacrifices this involved for the dragons, but it didn't matter because no humans lived on their island, so they paid the phenomenon no mind. Now, for Spotwing, the question became immediately and vitally important. What would it meant to accept a human as a friend? What would it meant to accept _this_ human as a friend?

Just the idea of "friend" outweighed any other considerations she could think of.

She stared down at this human. The small one was soft and pink, even more defenseless than a Changewing who couldn't hide. Only their numbers and their weapons enabled the Vikings to wage war against the dragons and even hope to win. This human was alone and had no weapons. Her intentions seemed clear, but with two totally different species who couldn't communicate with each other, there was room for every kind of misunderstanding imaginable. What did Spotwing know for sure?

She knew that, if she befriended this human, the human would want to ride on her. That might not be so bad; it would be nice to have a companion in the air for a change. She knew that humans lived in human villages, so she might be expected to live in that village as well. That was iffy; none of her kind knew anything at all about human villages, except for the brief exposure they'd had when they were recovering the stolen eggs. She knew that this human must have ridden a dragon to get here, so if she moved to the human village, she might have to deal with other kinds of dragons, too. That could be bad. Changewings lived apart from other dragons because their scales were too soft to protect them against attack; it was the price they paid for scales that could change color. If a Changewing got into any kind of a fight with a different kind of dragon, the Changewing usually lost.

She knew that the same humans always rode the same dragons when they appeared over her island. That suggested a personal bond, not a simple rider-and-mount relationship. This human might become a permanent friend. Did anything else matter?

She focused her eyes on the human at close range, nearly going cross-eyed in the process. How could she tell this intelligent creature from another species that she accepted the offer of friendship? She understood none of the sounds the human was making; it would make sense to assume that the human couldn't understand dragon speech, either. She settled on a neutral-sounding croon that she hoped would sound pleasant to a human.

Her new friend continued stroking her nose and worked her way down to her chest, making pleasant sounds. The touch of her hand felt good; a side effect of having soft scales was that Changewings could feel light touches that didn't register through the tough scales of other dragons. Then the human stepped back, stretched her forelimbs straight out at her side, and flapped them up and down a few times. If those limbs had been wings, the gesture would have looked like flying, but they weren't, so... was the human saying she wanted to go flying with her?

Hesitantly, Spotwing bent down and lowered her neck to the ground. Slowly, the human eased herself onto the neck and rested her hands on the dragon's horns. "All right, human, let's see how this works!" the Changewing said hopefully, tensed, and sprang into the air.

The extra weight of a human on her neck didn't slow her down; she adjusted after a few moments. Her new friend had taken a very tight grip with her legs, but she relaxed it once they were airborne. The human had the good manners to not yank on her horns, but nudged them to turn her head and tell her which way she wanted them to fly. Every now and then, she felt the human's hand on her neck or the back of her head, accompanied by those soothing sounds. After a few minutes, Spotwing realized that the sensations of having a human on her back didn't even feel strange any more.

"Hey!" A voice from behind her and to her right startled her. It was Cutfang, with Graybottom just behind him. "What in Tannin's name do you think you're _doing?_" he called.

She braced herself; she'd never dared to talk back to Cutfang before. "I've found a friend who doesn't care about my spots," she answered.

"Your so-called friend is a _human!_" Graybottom shot back. "They kill dragons! They steal our eggs! How can you possibly trust it?"

"I just know she's okay," Spotwing replied mildly.

"Well, don't get used to it," Cutfang snarled. "You know it can't stay on our island."

"That's what you say about me, too," Spotwing said, and as soon as she said it, she made her decision. "So I'll make everybody happy, including me. My human won't stay on _your_ island, and neither will I. I'll obey your banishment, fly away with my friend, and find out what living with the humans is like."

"You're going to fly off into the sunset with a total stranger from a hostile species?" Graybottom couldn't believe her ears. "You have absolutely no idea what you're doing!"

"All I know is, a human who likes me _has_ to be better than dragons who don't like me," Spotwing replied. "Tell the other Changewings I'm saying goodbye. I'll miss some of you, but I think I've found my destiny, and it has to be better than anything _you_ ever offered me." With that, she gave four powerful flaps, gained height and speed, and left the other two behind. They could have caught her easily if they'd wanted to, but after conferring quietly for a second, they let her go.

For the next half-hour, the new dragon-human pair did nothing but fly, and they loved every moment of it. Getting to know someone was hard when they could not speak each other's languages, and while the human could make gestures, it was hard for Spotwing to see those gestures when the human was riding on her neck. But the human was clever, and Spotwing was no idiot. She soon understood that when the human made a sound like "Soo," she was referring to herself. The dragon's mouth couldn't make make an "oo" sound, so she settled for a simple hiss, and the human understood that as her own name in dragon speech. It was a small beginning, but not bad, considering their situation.

Then she saw another dragon nearby, a Nightmare, and swerved away from it. Changewings didn't socialize with other dragons, especially the big, short-tempered ones. But Soo nudged her horns to turn toward that other dragon, and Spotwing reluctantly obeyed. She saw that the Nightmare had a rider. It was her friend's mate. But he was the Egg-stealer, the enemy of Changewings! This was getting complicated. She hoped the other human could keep his dragon under control as they drew near each other. Soo shouted something to the male human; Spotwing assumed it was a friendly greeting. She might have been amused if she'd known what her new rider really said.

"Oops! I guess I forgot to bring your clothes when I left the island. Oh, well."

**o**

_A/N  
>I've written <em>_so__ many dragon-training scenes in my other stories ("Snart's Saga" alone has at least ten of them). I really wanted to do something different this time around, and the idea hit me – why not tell the story from the dragon's point of view? I'm curious what people think of this alternate approach._


	17. Chapter 17

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 17

Su and Snotlout circled Berk on their dragons, trying to figure out what they should do next. Su had realized that her new dragon friend didn't want to get too close to other kinds of dragons. That would make it hard for them to land in Berk, which had a dragon on almost every roof. Snotlout's problem was more prosaic; he didn't want to land in town with no clothes on. They eventually picked out a small clearing in the woods, a few hundred yards from the village. The Changewing landed first and ducked into the woods to make room for the Nightmare, which was slightly larger. The riders had a quick conference, and Su headed for town and made her way to her new house. There, she gathered some of her husband's clothing and turned back to the clearing.

Ruffnut intercepted her before she got out of town. "I know you Bog-Burglars like to steal stuff, but why are you swiping your own husband's clothes?"

"I'm not swiping these," she answered innocently. "He asked me to bring them to him. He left his other clothes behind on a deserted island we were visiting."

"Yow! Too much information!" Ruff grimaced. "_Way_ too much information!" She went back the way she came, shaking her head and trying to get the mental picture of an unclothed Snotlout out of her mind. Su returned to the clearing, grinning all the way. _Slowly but surely, I'll teach them not to ask so many questions,_ she thought. _Then I'll have a field day with __their__ stuff_.

Snotlout was relieved when she appeared in the clearing with his clothes. "Thanks, babe," he said as he got dressed. "It's good to see how you're learning to wait on your husband." He reached for his socks and his boots… and they weren't there.

Su glared at him with fire in her eyes. "I am _not_ waiting on my husband!" she snapped. "I just did you a favor because you needed it and you asked me nicely. That's not the same as making myself into your doormat."

Snotlout was surprised by this outburst. "Hey, who said anything about a doormat? All I want is a nice, submissive wife, that's all."

"How does it feel to want?" she snapped. "I'll be a nice, submissive wife when Muspelheim freezes over! That's not my place! Now, if you back off and admit you were wrong, I'll give you your boots and your socks back."

"Admit I'm wrong? I've never been wrong!" he burst out. "No Jorgenson has ever admitted he was wrong! _You_ admit that _you're_ wrong!"

"I can't do that," she exclaimed in mock horror. "I'm a Jorgenson by marriage now, so I _can't_ admit I'm wrong. You just said so. I'd say _you_ have a problem."

"Everybody knows," Snotlout said tiredly, "that a woman's place is barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen. It's what you were made for. What's so hard about that?"

"For one thing, _you're_ the one who's barefoot," she smirked. "For another thing, everybody on _my_ island knows that a woman's place is armed, dangerous, and calling the shots. It's the man's job to keep the household running while the woman is taking care of the important stuff. What's so hard about _you_ accepting _that?_"

Snotlout started to shoot back a harsh answer, but he bit it back and sat silently for a few seconds. He thought hard before he finally answered. "I've got no problem with a woman who's armed and dangerous. Heck, I think you're dangerous even when you're _not_ armed." That got a surprised smile out of her. He took a breath and went on, "Su, I don't want to fight you. Believe me, I can think of twenty things I'd rather do with you than fight you! But my father has spent his entire life teaching me how I'm supposed to uphold the Jorgenson family honor, and I –"

"No kidding?" she exclaimed. "I've been hearing about the proud traditions of the Bog-Burglars all of _my_ life!"

"Great," he grimaced. "I've got my entire clan on my back, but you've got your whole _tribe_ on yours! What I'm trying to say is, even if we thought of some way to live with each other without bossing each other around, I don't like to think about what my father would do when he found out about it."

"What would he do?" she asked.

"He could shun me," Snotlout began. "He could move to have me shamed in the town. That probably wouldn't work, but even if he failed, there would be some people who would still believe it. Or he could disown me, which would leave me without an inheritance, without a clan, and without a chance of ever becoming chief."

"He'd do those things to his own son?" Sukiaqui was incredulous.

"In a heartbeat. The Jorgenson family honor means more to him than anything else, or anybody else."

Su sat down hard on a fallen tree trunk. "And I thought _I_ was under pressure! I had no idea."

Snotlout sat down right next to her, but didn't look at her. "So what am I supposed to do? Either I go to war with you, or I'm at war with my dad."

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I really thought you'd be happier if I encouraged you to take your natural place in the home. I didn't realize the position I was putting you in."

He glanced at her. "What will happen if you don't uphold your proud Bog-Burglar traditions?"

"Mom would be disappointed, she'd give me a really good tongue-lashing, but nothing like what you're facing." She paused. "Would you like your socks and your boots back?"

"That's not going to settle anything," he sighed, and rested his chin on his hands.

"It will settle whether or not your feet are cold," she said sympathetically. She reached under the tree trunk and pulled out his footwear. "We can work out the other stuff some other day."

"You mean extend the truce some more?" He sounded doubtful. "We're going to have to settle it someday. Waiting isn't going to help."

"We can put off a decision as long as we want," she said decisively. "After all, it's our marriage, not theirs. I know neither of us wants to fight all the time, and neither of us has any idea how to work it out when we both want the Number One job. I'm pretty happy the way things are, and you seem pretty happy, so what's the hurry to force a confrontation?"

"You know, that almost makes sense," he said thoughtfully as he put his socks and boots back on. "I think I've done more thinking in the past week than I've done in my entire life. It makes my head hurt."

"Are you saying, 'Not tonight, I have a headache'?" she grinned.

"No, babe, that is definitely _not_ what I'm saying!" he exclaimed, then realized she was teasing him. "Okay, I need a change of subject. Tell me about this dragon you trained today."

"This won't take long, because I don't know much. It's a bit smaller than the other ones we saw, so it may be a young dragon. I haven't picked a name for it, I don't know if it's a boy or a girl… all I know for sure is that it likes me and it doesn't like other dragons. I don't know how we're going to work that part out – Berk has so many dragons, I'm afraid my dragon won't feel comfortable there."

"Where is he, anyway?" Snotlout asked. "Did he wander off and leave you already?"

"She's probably hiding and watching us," she suggested. "Remember, she's a Changewing. I'll need to teach her some commands like 'hide' and 'reappear' that other dragon riders don't have to worry about." She stood, looked around, and called, "Dragon! Changewing! Where are you?"

After a few seconds, most of a Changewing appeared about thirty feet away, standing in front of a patch of ferns and undergrowth. Three big, irregular spots on each wing stayed green and camouflaged for several seconds, and slowly faded to the dragon's natural red color.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, and ran over to the dragon. "That's quite a trick you can play, but what's with the spots on your wings? Are those supposed to work that way?" She pointed at the spots. Snotlout started to wander over to examine this unusual-looking dragon, but stopped when he remembered being hugged and tail-dangled by the last Changewing he'd met. Meanwhile, Hookfang's curiosity had been aroused by the other dragon appearing out of nowhere. When the Nightmare started getting close, the Changewing vanished against the greenery, except for those spots, which faded to green after several seconds. Once the spots had changed color, there was no way to tell there was a big dragon just a few feet away. Su reached out to where she knew its head was, and felt the warm scales under her hand, even though it looked like she was petting greenery.

"Snotlout, tell you your dragon to back off. I think he's scaring my dragon."

"Riding a scaredy-dragon isn't going to get you far around here," he said sarcastically. "You'd better teach him to man up! Hookfang, back off a little." He made a shooing gesture. The Nightmare bounded into the air and flew away. "Hey! That's too far!" he called.

"Huh! You don't know your own strength," she commented.

"Yeah, I _am_ really strong, aren't I?" he said proudly, and flexed a bicep.

"Maybe I'll call her Spotwing," Su decided, as much to change the subject as for any other reason.

"Her? I thought you couldn't tell the difference between a 'her' and a 'him'," Snotlout objected, miffed that she'd ignored his flexing.

"I can't," she answered. "At least, not with dragons. But I've got a fifty-fifty chance of guessing right, and I just have a feeling she's a girl."

"You'll feel pretty foolish if it starts acting like a male," he warned her.

"You mean, if it starts cooking and cleaning the house?" she said with a perfectly straight face.

"No! I mean…" He slowly broke into a grin. "You're trying to cause trouble, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," she smiled. "But now I've got a problem, and I don't mind asking you for help. If I go back to the village and leave my dragon in the middle of the woods, how am I going to find her again in the morning?"

"Why do you have to ask me all the hard questions?" he fussed. "Why can't you ask me, 'How many legs does a Gronckle have,' or something easy like that?"

"Maybe I should train her to spend the night in some special place that I can find easily," she thought out loud.

"I hate to admit this," he said slowly, "but I'm not the guy to ask about stuff like that. Hiccup used to wander all over the island, back when he was a loner; he can probably help you find a good place to hide a big dragon."

"I'll look him up when we get back to the village," she nodded, and turned to her dragon, who was still camouflaged. "We're going back to the town. Will you come with us, please?"

"You know he can't understand you, right?" Snotlout challenged her.

"I think she's a lot smarter than you… think she is," she said, throwing a pause into her sentence to bait him. He didn't rise to the bait, probably because he didn't get it. She turned and walked away, then turned back and gestured for the dragon to follow her. After a moment, a huge chunk of greenery turned red, followed a few seconds later by the spots on its wings. The dragon ambled behind her, seemingly as docile as a puppy, as Snotlout stared in disbelief.

They got back to town a little before supper. The town's dragons were mostly up on the roofs of the buildings, preparing for a good night's sleep. They gazed down curiously at the Changewing, but didn't bother to move, so the new dragon didn't feel as threatened as Su had feared. She guided her big red friend to the feeding trays that served the dragons of Berk, and watched with some satisfaction as the dragon stuffed her face with fish from the trays. "That's probably the easiest meal she's ever eaten," she commented to Snotlout.

"Yeah, almost as easy as the meals we eat in the Mead Hall," he nodded. "Which reminds me. When are you going to show me what a great cook you are?"

"I hate to keep asking questions like this, but isn't that your job?" she wondered.

"If that's my job, then I'm going to get fired," Snotlout shot back. "I've never cooked anything in my life, except for a deer I took while my friends and I were on a camp-out. I didn't do a very good job of that. Even Hiccup said it was burnt, and he never says anything bad about anybody!"

"So, if I don't cook, we're going to starve?" Su was more than a little bit dismayed at that thought.

"We can always eat in the Mead Hall, like we've been doing," he replied, sensing that he might be gaining the upper hand for a moment. "But we can never invite any friends over for supper, and it puts me in a bad spot when people ask how I like your cooking. By the way, how good _is_ your cooking?"

She glared at him, feeling somehow betrayed. Was she going to be forced into Berk's idea of a traditional wife, simply because Snotlout was incapable of fitting into the Bog-Burglars' idea of a traditional husband? It was so unfair! Yet she knew he was right about inviting people to their house. His father would probably be fishing for a dinner invitation soon, just to see how his son was keeping the newest Jorgenson in her place. What in the Nine Worlds was she going to do about that?

"When I cook something," she said, slowly and deliberately, "it will never win any prizes. I will never be invited to cook for a visiting chief. But you'd be able to eat it without getting sick or breaking any teeth, and you wouldn't lose any weight. You have to understand that I view cooking the same way you do – it's not my place. It's not something I'd ever do willingly."

"But at least you know how," he said. "That might be important some day."

"To impress your father with how you're dominating me?" she asked, daring him to rise to the bait.

"Yeah, I was thinking about that," he nodded. "I mean, I wouldn't demand that you cook every day, but maybe once in a while, when my dad comes over, just to keep peace in the family?"

"How would you feel about _me_ teaching _you_ how to cook, so when my mother comes over, _I_ can impress _her?_"

"_That_ will be a cold day in..." His voice trailed off as he realized she was asking the same things of him that he was asking of her. He turned away and shook his head. "I can't do that! You're talking sense, but I can't do it! This whole thing isn't going to work! We're just too different!"

Su shook her own head. "The problem, Snotlout, is that we're too much alike."

**o**

_A/N_  
><em>Happy Snoggletog to one and all!<em>


	18. Chapter 18

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 18

Sukiaqui caught up with Hiccup and Astrid after supper. "Hiccup, where does a 1900-pound dragon sleep?"

Hiccup smiled. "Anywhere he wants to. That's an _old_ joke."

"I'm serious. I've got a dragon who wants to be my friend, but she's nervous around other dragons. I need to find a place for her to spend the night where she won't feel uncomfortable, but she'll be reasonably close to me."

"Really? You got yourself a dragon already? You might be a natural dragon trainer. What kind did you train?" She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Whoa!" Hiccup exclaimed.

"What did she say?" Astrid demanded. Hiccup whispered in her ear. "Whoa!" Astrid burst out.

"Where is she?" Hiccup asked. "I've never seen one of those up close."

"She's right outside the Hall... I think," Su admitted. "She can be really hard to find sometimes, you know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean," he nodded. "We all remember the day they came to visit our village. Even other dragons can't find a Changewing if the Changewing doesn't want to be found." The three of them, soon joined by Snotlout, trooped outside and stopped.

"Spotwing!" Su called. "Reveal! Where are you?" Most of the dragon suddenly appeared about five feet away, which made them all jump. Once the entire dragon was visible, Su stepped over and reached up to pat its nose. "Astrid, Hiccup, this is Spotwing. We're still working out our relationship... I seem to be doing a lot of that lately... but we're friends, and we love flying together."

"It sounds like you two are off to a good start," Astrid commented.

"How is she around strange people?" Hiccup wanted to know.

"That depends," Su answered lightly. "How strange _are_ you?" Snotlout broke up in hysterical laughter. "Seriously, I don't know. You can be the first to find out, if you want to."

"Astrid?" he asked. "Shall we?" She nodded. They both took a step toward the Changewing. The big dragon's nostrils flared and she backed away. "Maybe we should try this one at a time," he suggested, and Astrid nodded and stepped back.

"Hey, Spotwing," Hiccup said softly. "I'm Hiccup, and I never met a dragon like you before." He reached out his hand. The dragon hesitantly bent down and sniffed his palm, then visibly relaxed. He rubbed the red nose for a moment, then took a step back. "With nostrils that big, she must rely on her sense of smell a lot. Your turn, my dear." Astrid did and said pretty much the same things Hiccup did, and got similar results.

"We'll say this one is 'shy but nice'," Hiccup decided. "Fishlegs will want to write that in the Book."

"I've still got the biggest dragon!" Snotlout exclaimed from behind them.

"Maybe, but this one is amazing," Astrid said, half-ignoring him as she continued patting the dragon's nose. "How did you train her, Su?"

"Pretty much the same way you just made friends with her," Su replied, simultaneously proud and amazed that these experienced dragon trainers were making her their center of attention. "I stroked her nose and said nice things to her. There's something wrong with the way her wings change color, and she never got close to the other Changewings we saw. I'm wondering if she was at the bottom of their pecking order. If she was, then she might have been lonely."

"Dragons are social creatures," Hiccup nodded. "They almost always live in nests with others of their kind, but our dragons adjusted so quickly to living in Berk with us, we think they're as happy in the company of humans as they are with other dragons. But now that I can see her, I can also see your problem. She is _not_ a small dragon. Where is she going to sleep at night?"

"Where do your dragons sleep?" Sukiaqui asked.

"Toothless is small enough to sleep on the roof, and Stormfly stretches out against the back wall of the house," Astrid answered. "I think she likes it there because she can look in our window in the morning and see if I'm awake yet. Meatlug actually sleeps in the same room as Fishlegs, which most of us think is a bit _too_ friendly, but it works for them. The others stay in the training ring because they're so big."

"Toothless used to sleep in my room when I was single," Hiccup added. "I had to make some changes when I got married."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Su muttered. Hiccup and Astrid gave each other a knowing look, but said nothing.

"Anyway," Hiccup continued, "there aren't any dragon-friends who live next door to your house, so if Spotwing wanted to sleep right next to your front door, there wouldn't be any other dragons nearby to make her nervous. Can she camouflage herself to stay invisible while she's asleep?"

"I don't know," Su admitted. "There's a lot I don't know about her yet. At least the rest of you aren't making me feel ignorant; I appreciate that."

"When it comes to Changewings, we're all ignorant," Astrid said. "Except maybe Snotlout; he was the first one to get up close and personal with a Changewing."

"Do you guys _have_ to keep reminding me about that?" Lout demanded.

"Yes. Next question," Astrid smiled.

"I guess the next question should be, 'What does your mother think about you training a dragon?' " Hiccup wondered.

"She doesn't know yet," Su said, "and it might be best if she didn't find out for a while. She won't think it's right for a Bog-Burglar to be acting like a Berk Viking so quickly."

"She's still in the Mead Hall," Astrid grinned. "Maybe I should walk in and make a big announcement about your new friend!"

Su gave her a dangerous look. "If you do, then _I'll_ walk in and make a big announcement about _your_ special situation." She glanced pointedly at Astrid's belly.

"_Don't you dare!_" Astrid shouted. "You promised!" Hiccup stepped between the two women before his wife got physical.

"Peace, ladies," he begged. Su backed off; Astrid was still fuming. He turned to his wife. "We have to announce it sometime, you know. Why not get it over with, so nobody can hold it over our heads anymore?"

Astrid thought it over for a few seconds. "Do I have to be there when you announce it?"

"If you aren't there when I announce it, people will think we're disagreeing about something," he replied. "Besides, once everybody knows, all the women in town are going to want to congratulate you, and if you don't let them get it over with in the Hall, they'll be coming up to you by ones and twos for a week."

"I hate it when you're right," she scowled, but she took his hand and walked back into the Hall with him. Su and Snotlout watched from the doorway.

"What are they doing?" Lout asked her. "What's her special situation?"

"Listen and learn," she replied.

"I hate doing that," he muttered.

Hiccup climbed onto a bench and shouted, "Can I have your attention for a moment?" His voice didn't carry over the usual hubbub in the Hall; no one noticed him.

"Listen up!" Astrid shouted. That worked. Every eye in the Hall was on Hiccup now.

"I just have a little announcement," Hiccup said with a growing smile. "Uhh, you all need to congratulate our chief. He's going to be a grandfather!"

It took the Vikings a second or two to digest that. Then the women flocked to Astrid like metal filings to a magnet, chattering a mile a minute and making her feel extremely uncomfortable. Most of the men congratulated Stoick on the continuation of his family line. The chief was completely surprised by the news, but acted like he'd known all along; he definitely looked pleased. The only one who said anything to Hiccup was Gobber. Hiccup almost made a break for freedom, but climbed down off the bench and held his wife's hand instead. Astrid clung to him gratefully as she accepted the congratulations, advice, and predictions of all the women in Berk. Some of the advice and predictions were really off the wall.

When the scene finally ended about half an hour later, Hiccup and Astrid slowly walked out of the Hall, feeling emotionally drained and glad for each other's company. Su and Snotlout met them at the door. "Hiccup, you could have run away from those chattering females!" Lout exclaimed. "Why did you stay?"

"I knew Astrid was really uncomfortable in that crowd," Hiccup began, and Astrid nodded heartily. "I think I felt just as uncomfortable, surrounded by women talking about women-things, but staying with her seemed like the best thing I could do for my wife."

"You did that because she runs things, and you wanted to support her?" Su asked.

"No, I did that because I love my wife and I want to do what's best for her," Hiccup replied firmly.

"Even though it makes other people think she's in charge?" Snotlout queried him.

"Frankly, I don't care what anybody else thinks," Hiccup stated. "At the end of the day, it's just her and me. If I make her happy, there's a good chance she'll make me happy."

"And when I make him happy, he tries to make me happy in return," Astrid added.

"And that's as good as it gets," Hiccup concluded. "I know it's not the usual Viking attitude, but it works great for us." He turned to Astrid and smiled. "Maybe I should take you home. You're an expectant mother; you need your rest."

"Hiccup," she mock-growled, "if I hadn't promised I wouldn't hit you anymore, I'd knock your block off!" Instead, they linked arms and walked back to their house. Su watched them and felt a quick touch of envy.

"Do you think doing things that way would work for us?" she asked.

"Never," Snotlout said dismissively.

"I guess not," she agreed.

"We're too different from the two of them," he nodded. Then, after a long pause, he added "Want to extend our truce for another night?"

She didn't get to answer. Her dragon suddenly reached out, caught her with a paw, and swept her into a hug that nearly took her breath away. Snotlout was torn; he wanted to help his wife if she needed help, but he remembered being caught in a Changewing hug like that, and he did _not_ want to get caught in another one.

"Are you okay?" he asked from what he thought was a safe distance.

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "Sort of. Spotwing… can you ease up a little? I can't breathe." She pushed against one of the huge dragon paws that held her in place. The oversized hug relaxed, just a little.

"Hey, let her go!" Snotlout challenged the dragon. "That's my wi-AIEEE!" The Changewing had caught his ankle with her tail and swept him off the ground, where she bobbed him up and down like a yo-yo in mid-air while she focused on Sukiaqui.

"Oh, no, not again," he begged.

"I think we've got a lot to learn about Changewings," Su gasped. "Spotwing, I love you too, but this power-hug stuff isn't working for me."

The twins chose that moment to wander out of the Mead Hall. They took one look at Lout and Su's predicament, and burst out laughing.

"I don't suppose you could give us a hand?" Snotlout asked. The twins applauded. "Oh, that's really funny," Lout complained.

"He's right!" Tuffnut exclaimed. "This _is_ really funny!"

"Maybe we should sell tickets!" Ruff agreed. She turned and called into the Mead Hall, "Everybody, come here! You have to see this! This is the funniest thing we've seen all week!"

Apparently, the sound of many approaching footsteps scared the dragon. She dropped both humans and changed her color to match the outside of the Mead Hall. When the Vikings got outside to see the funny sight, all they saw was the newlyweds sitting on the ground, catching their breath.

"What's so funny about this?" Phlegma the Fierce demanded of Ruffnut.

"Well, it _was_ really funny a few seconds ago," she said defensively. The other Vikings made disgusted shrugs and went back to their meals. The twins realized that there wasn't anything fun or dangerous happening here, so they wandered home.

"I'll say this for your dragon," Snotlout said as he dusted himself off. "She's got good timing. She still isn't as awesome as Hookfang, though."

"That's a matter of opinion," Su retorted. "Every rider seems to like his or her own dragon the best, and I happen to think my dragon is the best of them all."

"Oh, yeah? We'll see about that tomorrow when we all go riding together!" Lout offered Su his hand and helped her stand. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little dizzy," she answered. "It's probably because I couldn't breathe properly for a minute or two. I'll be fine." She turned to where she presumed her dragon was. "Spotwing, we're going back to our house. Come with us, please." She added a "come" gesture with her hand. The red dragon materialized out of nowhere and followed them back to their house. When they opened the door, the dragon tried to stick her head inside the house and look around, but her horns were far too wide; her head wouldn't fit. She looked around as best she could from the doorway, then stepped back.

"We'll be here all night," Su explained, as though the dragon could understand her. "Please be here when we wake up in the morning, so we can go flying together." The dragon lay down next to the house and disappeared. That was the newlyweds' cue to dart inside and firmly close the door.

**o**

_A/N  
>The part about Changewings hugging people, and dangling them by the tail, comes straight out of the Riders of Berk episode "We Are Family, Part 1."<em>


	19. Chapter 19

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 19

Su and Spotwing's first attempt at flying with the other dragons of Berk didn't go well. The Changewing shied away from all those other dragons and refused to join the group, no matter how Su tried to urge her. Hiccup and Fishlegs offered her some suggestions, but nothing worked. She finally gave up and went for a private flight with her newfound friend, while Snotlout and Hookfang stayed with the others. She could have stayed up in the clouds all day, but today was not that day. The five-day-long wedding reception party ended today, and her family was leaving after lunch.

If Sukiaqui had chosen any dragon except a Changewing, her mother certainly would have found out about it, and Su would have earned a righteous scolding for adopting Berkish ways instead of staying true to her Bog-Burglar roots. But it's possible to hide a forty-foot-long dragon in a Viking village if the dragon can camouflage itself at will. The time for Bertha's departure came, and she never knew that her daughter had taken a winged, scaly friend.

"Come and visit me when you can," she urged her daughter. "I hope you'll be happy, and I hope you have fun doing what Bog-Burglars do, in a new place."

"I think I'll be happy, Mother," Su said. "Thank you for finding me a good man." They shared a long hug. She said goodbye to her sisters ("Think of me when you swipe your first Berk treasure," were Cami's parting words), and watched as her relatives and friends sailed away toward the island that used to be hers. Now she had a new home with new traditions and expectations, almost all of which were totally at odds with her upbringing. Most of all, she now had a husband who expected her to be something totally different from what she was. About all they had in common was the fact that they rode dragons, and the fact that they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

That night, Snotlout brushed her hair back out of her face. "Babe, you are seriously hot!" he exclaimed.

"You're quite a stud yourself," she said quietly.

"No, I mean you feel hot to the touch," he answered. "Do you feel okay?"

"I guess I'm a little warm and achy," she admitted. "I thought the 'warm' part was your fault."

In the morning, she felt a lot worse. "I don't think I should go to the Mead Hall," she decided. "If I'm getting sick, I don't want to spread it around. You go ahead without me. I'm not very hungry anyway." She kissed him on the cheek, and he headed for the Hall by himself for the first time in his married life.

He sat with the other teens, and explained that Su wasn't feeling well. They seemed to understand, especially Hiccup and Astrid. But after a few minutes, he decided he just didn't feel right about being here without her. He took his plate, got another breakfast plate for Su, and returned to his house.

She still hadn't gotten out of bed. "How come you aren't eating in the Hall?" she asked him.

"Well, you know, I'm a married man now, and I just wanted to eat with my wife," he said defensively. "It's not like I'm waiting on you or anything."

"No, of course not," she nodded. "But thank you anyway. It's a sweet thought." She picked at her meal and didn't even come close to finishing it. He took Hookfang for his morning ride, but skipped the classroom dragon-training session that Hiccup always ran, and spent the rest of the morning sitting on the bed beside his wife. They talked about their respective pasts, but he did a lot more talking than she did. That was a sure sign that she wasn't feeling well.

At lunch time, she encouraged him to go and eat. "I don't want anything," she insisted weakly.

"You need something to keep your strength up," he protested.

"If you brought me some milk, that might taste good," she decided. "But don't feel like you have to wait on me." Her voice was noticeably softer than usual.

"I'll do that, and I'll also get Gothi," he said firmly. When she started to protest, he held up a hand. "No backtalk, woman! You need to be checked out by a healer. I refuse to be the first Jorgenson to become a widower before his thirty-day honeymoon was over, and that is _final_." She lacked the strength to argue the point.

He picked up a lunch plate for himself and an extra cup of milk for Su. Just before he left the Hall, he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was his father.

"Son, tell me honestly. Is there something wrong with my eyes?"

Snotlout looked at Spitelout's eyes, which looked mildly angry but showed no other signs of anything. "Your eyes look fine, Dad."

"That's what I was afraid of," Spitelout growled. "I was hoping the problem was with my eyes, and I wasn't actually _seeing_ my son waiting on his wife."

"Dad, she's sick!" Snotlout protested. "She can barely make it out of bed; she can't come here to eat. Am I supposed to let her starve until she's feeling better?"

"What you're _supposed_ to do," his father rumbled, "is take control of your household. If she's not on top of her game, that's the perfect moment for you to show her who's the boss, and _then_ take care of her so she'll appreciate you. Is that so hard for you to understand, Snotlout?"

"Dad, all I understand is that my wife has a fever, and she said some milk would help her feel better, and I –"

"Then let her get it herself! Don't you remember how I told you about the day you were born? An hour after you arrived, your mother was up and cleaning the house again. You remember me telling you that, don't you?"

"Yes, Dad, I remember you telling me that, but I figured it was another one of your little exaggerations that you made up to encourage me when I was younger." Before the elder Jorgenson could react, Snotlout continued, "Dad, I'm really worried about her. I need to bring this cup of milk to her so she'll feel better, and then I need to go get Gothi. Su doesn't just have a cold; this could be serious. We can talk later. I've gotta go." He stepped around his father and hurried back to his house. Spitelout was too shocked to respond.

When he went to Gothi's hut later and told her the situation, she looked grim (but then, she almost always looked grim). Instead of following him back to his house, she went to get Gobber first. That meant she expected to say something more than "bite two birch trees and call me in the morning." She examined Su in bed for about five minutes, then scratched some pictures on the piece of slate she carried for writing indoors. Gobber translated them for Snotlout.

"It's common fer people to get sick when they move to a new place. Their bodies aren't used to the sicknesses that are common in their new home. She ought to be okay in three or four days. Just give 'er plenty o' cool drinks, let 'er eat whatever she wants, an' keep 'er comfortable. An' she needs to rest as much as she can. If she gets any worse, let Gothi know right away."

It did, indeed, take about three days before Sukiaqui began to return to normal. Snotlout brought her whatever she wanted from the Mead Hall, and spent all his free time at her bedside. He caught some more lectures and some very dirty looks from his father, but he did his best not to let his father's words get to him. It was hard; he'd spent his entire life taking his father's every word as absolute fact. He was slowly waking up to the fact that a lot of what he'd been told was not true.

On the fourth day, Su said she felt well enough to visit her dragon. "What has Spotwing been doing all this time?" she worried. "Maybe she's forgotten about me."

"Hiccup and Astrid came up with one of their little plans," Snotlout muttered, heartily wishing it had been his plan. "They sent one of their dragons at a time to hang around the house for a few hours so Spotwing could get used to them, and realize that our dragons don't want to hurt her. Then they'd change dragons, and they kept doing it until your Changewing was familiar with all of them. This morning, when we all went flying, she came with us – not too close, but part of the formation. She's not so afraid of us anymore. By the way, I think she's sleeping on the roof now. I can't see her up there, but I can hear the roof creak when she lands." Then he smiled; he'd actually had an idea of his own. "Want to go flying, just you and me?"

"No, let's bring our dragons along for the ride," she said with a totally straight face.

"Well, yeah, that's kind of..." He grunted in exasperation when he realized she was teasing him. "Now I _know_ you're feeling better!" He hugged her in relief. "You had me worried for a while. Okay, how about you, me _and_ our dragons go for a ride?"

"Sure," she smiled. It was the first time she'd smiled in days. He realized he'd missed seeing her smile. They stepped outside, and Snotlout ran ahead to the training ring to get Hookfang. Su looked around to try and guess where her dragon was hiding. A moment later, the big red Changewing appeared and scooped up Sukiaqui in a bear hug.

"Spotwing, _easy!_" Su pleaded. "I can't breathe!" She pushed at the huge paw; the dragon relaxed her grip very slightly. "Easy!" Su said again, and kept pushing. After a few tries, the Changewing got the idea and eased up enough for Su to be comfortable.

"I missed you too, girl," she said. "Want to go flying?" She worked one arm free of the hug and made a hand sign that she hoped looked like something flying through the air. The dragon craned her neck so she could see Su's hand, then let her go and bent down. Su scrambled up onto the dragon's neck, and they were airborne a moment later.

She didn't see Hookfang anywhere, so she guided Spotwing toward the training ring. There, she saw Snotlout trying to wrestle with a Monstrous Nightmare who didn't want to wrestle, or do much of anything else. "Come on, you illegitimate son of a Terrible Terror!" he shouted. "Wake up!" The big dragon saw no reason to wake up; he'd eaten his breakfast, he'd done his flying for the morning, and now it was nap time. He yawned, stretched his wings (which sent Snotlout flying, and _that_ was surely no accident), and closed his eyes again.

Sukiaqui considered the situation. It looked like her husband wasn't going to join her in the air anytime soon. Either she could land and take Snotlout on board with her, or she and her dragon could aim for the clouds and take some female-to-female bonding time. After some hesitation, she pointed to the ring. "Land, Spotwing." The dragon landed outside, unwilling to enter the ring.

"Snotlout!" she shouted. "If your dragon won't cooperate, want to ride with me on mine?"

He hesitated. He'd never ridden in the "back seat" on any dragon before, except for that adventure on Outcast Island with Hiccup; it didn't seem like a Jorgenson thing to do. But it was his wife who was asking him. He walked casually over to them, but his attempt to climb aboard failed when the Changewing pulled away and hissed a warning at him.

"Spotwing, what's wrong with you?" Su demanded.

"Maybe it thinks I'm going to steal its eggs," Snotlout suggested.

"Maybe," she nodded. "Try saying nice things to her."

"Su, dragons aren't people! They're dragons," Lout snapped, folding his arms. "Once you start treating them like people, you'll wind up like Fishlegs, with your dragon licking your feet in the morning. You have to assert yourself with them and show them who's the boss."

"You mean, you have to put them in their place?" Su challenged him.

"Exactly!" he nodded.

"And we both know how well _that_ works, don't we?" she smirked.

Snotlout bit down on his response, thought for a few seconds, then reached up toward the dragon's nose. "Uhh, invisible dragon who I can see right now, would it be okay if I rode on you today? I won't make a habit of it."

The dragon sniffed his hand, scowled, then slowly lowered her neck. Snotlout swung up onto the Changewing's neck and folded his arms, unwilling to hold onto Su for balance. "I'm ready," he said.

A moment later, his arms were wrapped tightly around Su for balance. A Changewing had more wing area than a Nightmare, so its takeoff was more sudden and powerful. This was the closest he'd come to falling off a dragon in a very long time.

Su turned her head so she could see him. "I guess I should get used to death-hugs whenever dragons are around, huh?"

"I just wanted to reassure you that I'm okay back here," he explained.

"Of course you did," she nodded skeptically, and turned back to face where they were going. All she could see was clouds above her, and the land and sea below. The skies belonged to her. "Okay, Spotwing," she said happily. "Now bring me that horizon."

**o**

_A/N_  
><em>This story just passed the 9000-hit mark. I know a lot of readers won't invest their time in a story where Hiccup isn't the star, but for those of you who have read all these chapters, thank you.<em>


	20. Chapter 20

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 20

Sukiaqui had recovered from her fever. She'd become the first Bog-Burglar to train her own dragon. She'd avoided being subjugated by her traditional-minded husband for two whole weeks. She was feeling pretty good about life in general, and she decided she needed to celebrate, in true Bog-Burglar fashion. She was going to burgle something.

The first question, of course, was "what to burgle, and from whom?" Okay, that was two questions. It had to be something special, seeing how it would be her first burglary in her new life. It couldn't be too easy; she was a chief's daughter and she had to uphold her tribe's reputation, not to mention her own standards. If it was possible, she wanted to include her dragon in her plans, just because she could. It would be a double coup if she could turn an entire tribe upside-down with her exploit; that meant stealing something famous or prestigious.

As she considered the possibilities, an idea began to take shape. It was so audacious, so ridiculous, that she wrote it off as impossible, but the idea wouldn't leave her alone. When she finally stopped to think it through, she slowly realized that, with her dragon's help and a decent amount of luck, it might work.

She would burgle her own mother's ceremonial helmet.

The tribe's silver helmet was worn only by the chief, and only for important occasions. Instead of horns on the side, two gleaming wings rose up nearly a foot high, giving a Thor-like appearance. A single large emerald was set in the very front; its color didn't go with the silver metal, but it was the biggest, most impressive gem the Bog-Burglars had ever gotten their hands on, so they'd added it to their best helmet. With the possible exceptions of the prizes they'd stolen from other tribes, it was the most valuable artifact on Bog-Burglar Island.

Everyone on Bog-Burglar Island knew it. That's why most of them tried to burgle it at some point in their lives; an attempt to grab the helmet was almost a rite of passage for Bog-Burglar girls. Whoever nabbed it would make a name for herself, and would almost certainly get her name in the Big Book of Burglaries. At least, that was the theory. The theory had never been proven because no one had ever gotten their hands on the helmet. Part of the chief's job was to keep the burglars away from that piece of headgear, and the Bog-Burglar chiefs had all taken their duty very seriously. Bertha's method was to put all the prizes in one place, and guard that place as though her life depended on it. Her current solution involved hanging the helmet from the roof of the Mead Hall on a cord that would never hold a person's weight. It was so high off the floor that the only way to reach it was with a ladder, and the arrangement of the Mead Hall doorways meant that a ladder long enough to do the job would never fit through the doors. Such a ladder would have to be brought into the Hall in pieces and assembled there, a long and noisy process that no burglar could ever get away with, not even Bertha. If someone tried to get to the helmet by walking on the roof, a series of creaky, squeaky boards would give away that burglar's presence. The night watchwoman's patrol route included extra passes next to the Mead Hall, with orders to listen carefully for any unusual sounds inside. Just to be extra-sure, Bertha kept a large, loud watchdog in the Hall at night. The Bog-Burglar chief felt secure that her anti-burglary precautions would withstand the efforts of even the most clever, determined thief.

Sukiaqui was a _very_ clever, _very_ determined thief. Perhaps she wasn't quite as clever as her sister Camicazi, but she had few equals. She knew the layout of her own Mead Hall blindfolded. The watchdog didn't worry her; she'd made friends with it, and knew (or hoped) that it wouldn't bark when it saw her. Most importantly, she had one resource that no other burglar could call on. She had a dragon. That changed everything.

It took her over a week to make her plans, and to train her dragon in the commands she'd need to give. She had to conceal her planning from Snotlout, who would probably ask questions that she didn't want to answer. She made doubly sure that Hiccup and Astrid were unaware of the dragon-training part; that pair would definitely object to her turning her Changewing into a burglar's accomplice, and would find some clever way to stop her plan in its tracks. She made sure her burgling gear was in perfect condition, and she even found the ideal place to hide her trophy once she brought it back to Berk. There was a tiny platform in the rafters of Berk's Mead Hall, dark from smoke and age, that had seen no use in years, judging by the cobwebs. She could reach it easily by swinging a rope over a rafter and climbing the rope. It was a perfect plan. She spent the last two days before the new moon trying to think of anything that could go wrong.

At last, the ideal night came. The moon was new and the skies were overcast – perfect conditions for someone who did not want to be seen. Keeping Snotlout out of the picture was easy; he almost went into a coma after a good tumble. He didn't even stir when she slipped out of bed, donned her burgling outfit, and crept outside to find her dragon. She allowed extra time for the inevitable Changewing hug. Then they mounted to the skies and headed for the main Bog-Burglar Island.

Her first move was to fly in circles around her former town a few times. She'd never seen it from the air before, and she didn't want to burgle the wrong building by accident. The sight of her old home gave her a quick pang of homesickness, but she fought it off – she had a new home now, and she was here strictly on business. Once she had a good mental picture of the place in her mind, she put her plan into action. She carefully guided Spotwing until they were just above the main smoke vent of the Mead Hall. "Spotwing, land!" The dragon settled lightly onto the roof, which creaked once and then was quiet. A few seconds later, the dragon was as black as the night around her – invisible, for all intents and purposes. That suited Sukiaqui's purposes perfectly.

"Spotwing, tail-grab!" The dragon obediently wrapped her tail around Su's waist and lifted her up, looking puzzled at why her human friend actually wanted her to do this. "Left. Left some more. That's good. Lower!" Su ordered her dragon to move her tail around until she was right over the smoke vent, then went down and into the Hall.

It was as black as pitch inside; the coals in the main hearth threw a bit of heat, but almost no light. It took Su a solid minute for her eyes to adjust enough to see what she came for. The helmet was dangling from the roof about fifteen feet away, reflecting the coals in its shiny surface. Directly under it was the watchdog, which began to growl when it heard her. "It's okay, girl! It's me, Su!" she whispered to it. When it didn't seem to believe her, she pulled a piece of chicken breast out of one of her pockets and dropped it. The dog devoured it happily, caught Su's scent on it as it ate, and recognized its friend. The growling stopped.

Now came the tricky part. She'd brought a rope with a lead weight on one end, and an iron hook on the other. She had sharpened the inside of the hook until it was knife-like. Now she coated the rope on the weighted end with pine pitch from a little ceramic jar to make it sticky. She steadied herself – why was she feeling nervous? She'd burgled plenty of things before! She swung the weighted end of the rope in circles, then launched it toward the cord that held the helmet. It wrapped itself eight times around that cord, and the pine pitch helped it stay wrapped. So far, so good.

She swung the hooked end, trying to hook it onto the cord between her rope and the ceiling. It took her four tries to do it. Then she pulled it in, jiggling her rope as she pulled so the sharp edge would cut through the cord. It took longer than she'd expected. Suddenly, the cord parted! She pulled in on the weighted end of her own rope; she had to grab the helmet before her rope unwound itself. The pine pitch must have helped – she got it. She got it! She fought the urge to shout with triumph. Instead, she stuck the helmet in her backpack, coiled her rope and slung it over her shoulder, and quietly called, "Spotwing! Lift!" The dragon raised her out of the smoke vent, she climbed aboard, and the larcenous pair winged home triumphantly. She made sure to tell Spotwing what a good, obedient, patient dragon she was.

It wasn't until she had hidden her prize and was putting away her burgling outfit that she finally saw the major flaw in her plan. She couldn't tell anybody about it! The Berks would put her under suspicion every time someone misplaced one of their socks, and the Bog-Burglars wouldn't see her as a Bog-Burglar anymore. They might admire her chutzpah, but they wouldn't appreciate how one of their own had left their island and then turned against them. Her achievement had to remain a secret. She'd achieved the burgling feat of the century, and no one could ever know it. Maybe she could give it back to Cami after her sister became the chief. Aside from that possibility, the theft of a lifetime might as well not have happened.

What a letdown.

The next morning probably marked the beginning of her life as a citizen of Berk. One of the fishermen's wives noticed the beadwork clasps in her hair and asked where she'd gotten them. When Su explained that she'd made them herself, the other woman asked how it was done. The next thing she knew, Su was giving beadwork lessons to the woman and her three daughters. They appreciated the lessons and her patience with them, and promised they'd tell Chief Stoick how she was contributing to her new village already. That was the good news. The bad news was that she was quickly running out of beads.

"When is Trader Johann going to visit this island?" she asked Snotlout at lunch time.

"Whenever he wants to, I guess," her husband answered with his mouth full. "He might get here tomorrow, or he might wait four or five months; nobody knows except him, and I don't think he has a plan. He just goes where he pleases."

"That's a problem," she admitted. "I need to buy some more beads from him, and I can't wait five months. Why can't we go out and look for him?"

He started to explain why that wasn't possible; then a surprised expression crossed his face. "Yeah! We've got dragons. Why _can't_ we go out and look for him? We'll be the first ones on Berk to make deals with him this time – we'll get first dibs on his good stuff. Let's do it right after lunch!"

"We probably won't find him the first day," she cautioned him. "He could be anywhere in the Archipelago."

"Archi-whatever, shmarki-whatever!" he retorted. "We'll find him."

They spent the next three afternoons searching the sea for the elusive trader, but couldn't find him. Her mornings were uneventful, as were her evenings. But on the third night, she had a visitor.

Something small and hard bounced off her forehead as she slept. It happened again, which woke her up. As she started to stir, something hit her again. She glanced sleepily at the house's one window, and saw a dark silhouette framed by a wild tangle of hair, preparing to throw another pebble at her. Su crept out of bed so she didn't wake Snotlout, put on a coat and her husband's boots, and sneaked out the door, to where her sister Camicazi waited.

"You've really done it this time," the older girl began in a threatening tone.

"What are you talking about?" Su wondered.

"The silver helmet!" Cami hissed. "Someone burgled it. Nobody knows who or how, but it had to be a Bog-Burglar – no one else could pull off a caper like that. The night watchwoman says she saw a big dark shape flying away from the Mead Hall three nights ago. To me, that means a dragon. Put the two together, a Bog-Burglar riding a dragon, and there's only one possible culprit. That's you, dear sister.

"I know there's a black dragon on this island already, but from what I've heard, I seriously doubt he'd let you ride him. I figure you probably made off with one of your friends' dragons, painted it black for a night raid, and somehow washed the black off before morning. Regardless of how you did it, it was quite an achievement, and it's probably going to be the death of you."

"Who's going to kill me?" Su asked.

"Our mother, that's who!" Cami exclaimed. "You don't realize how much she values that stupid helmet. So far, I think I'm the only one who suspects you, but after Mom is done interrogating every Bog-Burglar on the island, she's bound to figure out who really took it. She's mad enough to order a feud against Berk if she doesn't get her helmet back. Think about that for a second."

Su thought. A feud against Berk would mean unrelenting thievery at every opportunity. Stoick wouldn't stand for that; he'd probably retaliate with a raid. That would mean that her friends and family could get hurt or killed. War might be the result. And she, Sukiaqui, would be caught squarely in the middle of it all. No one on either side would trust her. Stoick would suspect her of collaborating with her old tribe, and would probably imprison her until the hostilities were over, at which time he'd most likely banish her to protect his tribe. The Bog-Burglars wouldn't take her back because they'd suspect her of siding with her husband and her new village, not to mention the fact that she'd started the trouble in the first place. She would become a homeless outcast. Would Snotlout go with her if that happened, or would he remain true to his clan and his tribe, and let her go? She honestly didn't know.

"What should I do?" she asked, shaken.

"You need to find a clever way to give that helmet back without starting a war," Cami said flatly. "If you just march in and hand it over, Mom will throw you in the pokey for a month. Forget about sneaking it back into the Mead Hall – she's got the place guarded day and night, to protect our other prizes. If it magically reappears, Mom still won't rest until she knows who took it." Cami shook her head. "I don't know how you did it, and I don't know how you're going to undo it, but I'd hate to be in your shoes."

"What if I just denied doing it?" Su mused. "No one will ever be able to prove anything."

"Mom will eventually figure out that no one could have done it but you or me, and I was away burgling the Golden Helmet of Mambrino from the Berserkers," Cami retorted. "At least, that's what I was trying to do. You never saw so many guards watching one lousy helmet! It isn't even much of a helmet – it looked more like a shaving basin. Anyway, there won't be any doubt in Mom's mind. The sandglass is running, sister. You don't have much time. Speaking of which, I need to leave. If I'm away for too long, people will ask where I've been, and I've used up all my easy alibis on other projects." She rested both hands on her sister's shoulders. "Make a good choice, Su. Please." She turned and ran into the darkness.

Sukiaqui looked up, and saw Spotwing's head hanging over the eaves, watching her curiously. If she played this wrong, that dragon might become her only friend in the world, and there were a lot of ways she could play it wrong. She couldn't think of any way to play it right. "What do I do now?" she asked softly. Spotwing didn't answer.


	21. Chapter 21

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 21

When Sukiaqui and Snotlout set out in search of Trader Johann that afternoon, she nudged Spotwing close enough to Hookfang that she could speak to her husband without shouting. "I have a problem," she admitted, "and I wondered if you could come up with an awesome solution for me."

"Awesome is what I do for a living," he nodded. "What's the problem?"

"Well… suppose you did something that was _totally_ awesome, that maybe you shouldn't have done, and now you have to find a way to undo what you did."

"That's an easy one," he stated. "You deny that you did anything wrong, and if people don't believe you, you try to convince them it's really _their_ fault."

"Suppose those options are off the table," she said.

"When that happens, which is usually the case when I do something totally awesome, I just take my lumps and get it over with," he answered. "Once the jig is up, there's no use pretending."

"That might not be my best option, either," she thought out loud.

"Well, what did you do?" he asked.

After hesitating a moment, she said, "Will you keep this a secret?"

"Sure, babe," he smiled. "I'm great at keeping secrets. But the people I tell them to… sometimes they blab stuff all over the place."

"Snotlout, I'm serious! People could get hurt if this gets out."

"Oh. You're serious." His expression changed to a remarkably somber mien. "What did you do?"

She told him. He whistled. "Whoo-ee! You're a lot like Hiccup – when you mess up, you mess up big-time." He considered things for a moment. "I don't have any good ideas, but I'll promise you this. You're my wife, and I'll stay with you through anything."

"Even if my mother throws me in jail?" she asked. "Even if Chief Stoick throws me out of the tribe?"

"Like I said, I'll stay with you through almost anything. Is there any chance I could see this amazing helmet?"

"I'd rather you didn't, Snotlout. If you know too much about it, you could get stuck in the middle of a tribal feud, just like me. I want to spare you that. This is all my fault; I'm going to take the fall, if somebody has to fall."

He leaned over toward her. "Babe, we're married. We do everything together, the good and the bad. That's one part of being a Jorgenson that I don't have a problem with."

"I appreciate that," she nodded, more grateful than she was willing to admit. "But what I really need is a plan."

"I have lots of plans," he nodded. "Sometimes they even work. But in a case like this, you need an airtight plan, and I'm not so good at those."

He was distracted by Hookfang shaking his head and neck. "What's up, big guy?" he asked.

"Look down!" Su exclaimed. "There's a ship below us, and it's about the right size for Trader Johann's ship." The two dragons spiraled downward. As soon as the ship's sole crewman saw them, he grabbed a spear and brandished it threateningly at them.

"Go away, lizards!" he shouted, putting on a show of bravado. "I am not afraid to use this!"

"Relax, Johann, it's just us," Snotlout shouted.

"Us? Who is "us"? Oh, it is my good friends from Berk on their flying dragons! How may I be of some service to you, my friends?"

"You land first and talk to him, Su," Snotlout suggested. "If both our dragons land at once, their weight will sink the ship." She nodded and guided Spotwing in for a fairly gentle landing on the ship's deck.

Johann rubbed his hands in anticipation of some unscheduled trading on the high seas. "Now, my fine lady, what can I get for you?"

"I'm looking for beads," she said in her best business-like voice. "The little ones. You sell them to the Bog-Burglars all the time."

The trader's face fell. "Alas, fair lady, I do indeed sell them to the Bog-Burglars. I just sailed from their main island two days ago. They bought my only box of beads. I have no more. Perhaps there is something else you might desire?"

"No, but thank you," she said with a shake of her head. "Maybe I'll think of something by the time you get to Berk, or maybe you'll have more beads by then." She climbed back onto her dragon's back and they flew up to meet Snotlout.

"No luck?" he asked.

"No luck," she said disgustedly. "My mother just bought all his beads. No one else on my island would want that many."

"Your mother is causing you all kinds of trouble lately, isn't she?"

"She's my mother!" Su snapped. "She's always been a good parent to me, unlike some parents I could name. I'm just catching some bad breaks, that's all."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" he stammered, taken aback by her outburst. He and Hookfang broke away and landed heavily on Johann's deck. He traded away a flail he never used, in exchange for a pair of polar-bear-fur-lined boots to keep his feet warm during high-altitude dragon flights. They flew most of the way back to Berk in silence.

Finally, she asked, "Have you thought of an airtight plan for me yet?"

"I've got nothing," he confessed. "But if I wasn't a Jorgenson, I'd say, 'Go talk to Hiccup; he's great at coming up with plans.' Of course, I'm a Jorgenson, so I could never suggest a thing like that."

"Of course you couldn't," she nodded with a ghost of a smile. "A good Jorgenson would never do such a thing." They sat with Hiccup and Astrid at a secluded corner table for supper that night, and told them what had happened. By the time they were done eating, Hiccup had suggested a course of action. It wasn't guaranteed to work, but at least it had a fair chance of keeping two tribes from going to war.

As they parted for the night, Astrid offered Su some last-minute advice. "Your burgling skills and Berk don't seem to mix," she suggested. "Every time you try it, disaster falls. Maybe you should find some other way to live."

Su was indignant at the thought. Give up burgling? That would mean giving up her entire heritage! That would be like…

…like Snotlout turning his back on his Jorgenson heritage. But he was already doing that, little by little, for her benefit.

She decided to think it over, after she survived this current crisis. _If_ she survived.

**o**

_A/N_  
><em>This story will get its 10,000th hit sometime tonight. Thank you to all of my readers.<em>


	22. Chapter 22

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 22

Big Boobied Bertha, chief of the Bog-Burglars, was lonely. Her husband was taking a "boys' night out" playing Bashyball with the other men, her oldest daughter Camicazi was away on yet another burgling voyage, her middle daughter Sukiaqui was married and living on another island, and her youngest daughter Naginatta was taking bets at the Bashyball game. A Viking chief's longhouse had to be bigger than anybody else's house, just because it was the chief's house, but this one felt way too big for just one person tonight. She couldn't visit any of her friends because she had to catch up on her tribe's written records of their fish catches and farm production. She was stuck in this house with no one else around, and she didn't like it.

Just as the sun went down, there was a knock at the door. Bertha opened it, and her outlook changed instantly. "Su!" she shouted, and flung her arms around her daughter. "I wasn't expecting you! Where's your husband? How long did it take you to get here? How long can you stay? Is everything okay? Oh, I'm _so_ glad to see you! Come on in." She half-led, half-dragged Sukiaqui inside, sat her on a bench in front of the fire, and pressed a mug of herbal tea into her hands before Su could gather her wits to say one word. Bertha sat down next to her and exclaimed, "Now, tell me everything."

"Where should I start?" Su asked.

"Anywhere," her mother replied. Su shrugged and, starting with what Snotlout was like, she told her mother most of what she'd been doing on Berk since the reception party ended. She omitted the parts about the dragon and the burglary, though.

"It sounds like you're making some good progress on taming your husband," Bertha said approvingly.

"He's resisting me, but he's slowly giving way," Su nodded. "It's happening pretty much the way you said it would."

"By the way, where is he?"

"I came alone," Su explained. "This is kind of a business trip. I need to talk to you about the beads. I need more, and Trader Johann is all out of them."

"I bought a whole case the last time Johann was here," Bertha said, and gestured toward a wooden box in the corner, about two feet on a side. "I didn't realize you'd need more; I thought you had plenty."

"I did, before my neighbors noticed my beadwork in my hair," Su replied. "The neighbors love them, and I'm giving them lessons, but I don't have enough beads for them and myself as well. You bought everything Johann had. Can I buy some of them from you?"

"How many will you need?" her mother asked.

"Half of that box will keep me busy for a while."

"That's a lot of beads," Bertha observed. "I hate to gouge my own daughter on prices, but those things are made way down south in the Thyskaland provinces, and they aren't cheap. What will you offer me in trade?"

Su unslung her back-basket, took a deep breath, and opened it. "I offer you one silver helmet."

For half a moment, Big Boobied Bertha was stunned and motionless. "You?!" she exclaimed in astonishment. Then she lunged to snatch the helmet away, but stopped herself in mid-lunge. She stared at her daughter nervously holding the purloined helmet, smiled, and began to laugh. Hiccup had expected that Su's audacity could disarm her mother's anger, and he'd guessed right.

"What a daughter you are!" she exclaimed. "You're one of the few people who could have pulled off a stunt like that, and I never suspected you – you're a day and a half away! I was turning this island upside-down to get that helmet back!" Then her face clouded over. "Are you trying to pay me for my beads with my own helmet? Seriously?"

"Finders keepers, Mom," Su said, a bit defensively.

After the space of two breaths, Bertha said, "You've got a deal, on one condition. You have to tell me exactly how you did it, so I can keep you from doing it again."

Su began to relax. "Well, I picked a cloudy new-moon night and wore my black burgling outfit, so I wouldn't be seen. I flew here on my dragon, and we –"

"Stop right there," her mother ordered. "Your _what?_"

"My dragon," Su said, as though it was obvious.

"You mean you swiped one of your neighbors' tame dragons? That was an impressive start. Go on."

"No, Mom, I didn't steal anyone's dragon. I trained one of my own. Her name is Spotwing. Anyway, we –"

"Stop right there again. Su, riding dragons – doing _anything_ with dragons – is a Berkish game! That's no hobby for a self-respecting Bog-Burglar."

"Mom, in case you forgot, I _am_ Berkish now, by marriage. I got a taste of flight on Snotlout's dragon, and I knew I had to have one of my own someday. That day came faster than I expected… but here we are. She's a fast mount, a friend, and she's learning to be my partner in crime."

Bertha considered that. "We'll come back to that in a minute. Finish the story of how you stole my helmet."

Su told her everything, down to the least detail. "Then we flew home, and I hid it on a forgotten shelf in their Mead Hall. No one ever knew it was there, not even my husband, even though it was right over their heads. I'd still have it if Cami hadn't warned me that you were moving heaven and earth to get it back. I really didn't think you were that attached to it."

Without another word, Bertha took the helmet from her daughter's unresisting hands. She set it in her lap, gazed at it, and sighed. "I can't explain why I love this old helmet so much, Su. I just do. It's heavy, I look terrible when I wear it, those stupid wings always hit the door frame when I walk through a doorway… it's completely impractical, and I love it." She sighed again. "You realize I ought to lock you in a fish warehouse for a month for this?"

"That's a risk I was ready to take," Su quavered. "I didn't want a war between you and Berk because of me."

Bertha wiped some fingerprints off the helmet with a corner of her tunic. "I ought to be furious. I ought to make an example out of you, so no one else will ever try anything like that again. But the sheer audacity of what you did, and the way you pulled it off..." She shook her head. "And then you have the _nerve_ to try and _trade_ it back to me! Su, you're as unbelievable as your big sister! Pretty soon, _you'll_ be giving _me_ lessons in awesomeness."

Hesitantly, Su asked, "Am I actually going to get away with this?"

"Yes and no," her mother said firmly. "You aren't going to suffer, if that's what you're worried about. I'll tell the tribe that whoever stole the helmet brought it back in the night, we'll probably never know who did it, and that will be the end of the matter.

"But your lips are going to be sealed about this, from now until the day I die, and longer than that if Cami wants to keep it hushed up after I'm gone. If you thought you might get your name in the Big Book of Burglaries for this, forget it. It's not that you don't deserve it; you definitely do. But it doesn't reflect well on the tribe if our own chief is the victim of the crime of the century. If you want to make a name for yourself, do it at the expense of some other tribe's chief. Like Berk's chief, for instance.

"For what it's worth, Su, I'm proud of you. That was an amazing job; I really didn't think it could be done. If it was anyone else, I'd tell her the same thing, just before I threw her into a hole in the ground for a week with nothing but bread and water. But you... tell me more about this dragon of yours. If you must have one, can you at least tell me it's an impressive one?"

"Want to find out for yourself?" Su asked. "She's waiting outside."

Bertha was on her feet in an instant. "Su, you're not going to have that dragon for very long! There are at least thirty warriors in this village who would _love_ to kill a dragon!" She flung the door open... and looked around blankly.

"There's nothing here," she said, puzzled. "Did your flying creature fly the coop?"

"I don't think so," Su replied as she stepped outside. "Spotwing, reveal!" A section of the wall of the house rippled and turned into a big red dragon. Bertha gasped and stepped back, while Su stepped forward to rub the dragon's nose.

"Okay," the chief of the Bog-Burglars said nervously. "I admit, it's impressive. What good is it? What can you do with a pet dragon?"

"For one thing, Mom, Spotwing isn't a pet. She's a friend. She doesn't speak our language, and she looks different from us, but she's still a friend. As for what you do with a dragon, I told you how she helped me pull off the burglary of a lifetime. The other dragon-riders of Berk have had all kinds of adventures that never would have happened if it weren't for their dragons. But what it all boils down to is flying. Mother, you just can't imagine what it's like to feel the wind in your face when you're half a mile up!"

"You're right," Bertha replied, still uncertain. "I can't imagine it."

On an impulse, Sukiaqui leaped onto her dragon's neck. "Then don't imagine it. Go for a ride with me right now, and we'll show you."

For a moment, Bertha's healthy sense of self-preservation warred with her desire not to look fearful in the eyes of her daughter. Her curiosity tipped the scales. "What do I do?"

"Just climb up here, right behind me. Until you get used to it, you'd better hold onto me. Tight." Bertha did as she was told. "Okay, Spotwing. Up!"

Bertha kept telling herself it was just like climbing a ladder, or hanging from a rope during a burglary. She'd been off the ground plenty of times! This wasn't any different, was it? Yes, it was. She was riding the kind of beast that had burned her village and her people. The only reason it allowed her on its back was because her daughter had befriended it somehow. She was astride a killer, and she was taking it on faith that it wasn't going to kill her tonight.

Then she forced herself to look down, and she instantly forgot all her fears.

She saw her entire village laid out beneath her. Smoke and some sparks rose from smoke vents on dozens of houses as the occupants stoked up their fires for the evening. A late-moving flock of sheep looked like a carpet in motion as they were driven in from the pastures to the safety of their pens. On the Bashyball field, one team was forming a flying wedge, in the hope of winning before it got too dark to play. They would probably fail because some members of the other team were already getting behind them. In the harbor, the ships and fishing boats were tied to the docks in nice, neat rows, but they were spaced so far apart that three boats took up space that could have held four – she'd have to speak to her harbormistress about that. Everywhere she looked, she saw familiar old sights in brand-new ways.

"What do you think, Mom?" Su asked hopefully.

Bertha patted the dragon's neck and answered exuberantly, "I have _got_ to get me one of _these!_"


	23. Chapter 23

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 23

The next day, Su and Snotlout's marriage faced its first major crisis.

It started at lunch time. The Mead Hall cooks experimented with a different way of cooking the fish, and it failed badly. The resulting fish dishes were tough, flavorless, and completely unappealing. Only the hungriest Vikings could make themselves eat the whole thing; most of the village left their meals unfinished and went home to fill themselves with whatever they could find in their own houses. Snotlout and Su were among them. But they had nothing edible hanging around the house.

"My belly is going to be growling from now until supper," Lout complained.

"Why don't you take Hookfang for a nice long flight?" Su suggested. "I bet he'd like that, and you don't have much else to do today."

"That sounds good, but aren't you going to come with me?" Snotlout asked.

"No, I have to do some cleaning around here," she said. He wanted no part of _that_ action; he was out the door and headed for the training ring before she could find the broom. As soon as she found it, she put it back. Cleaning was not on her agenda. She just wanted to get Snotlout out of the house so he wouldn't see what she was about to do.

She took a few coins from his money purse (a petty theft like that wouldn't even register on most Bog-Burglars' radar) and headed for the docks. _I can't believe I'm doing this,_ she kept telling herself. _I just cannot believe I'm doing this. _She found a fishing boat that was still unloading its catch, and bought two decent-looking cod. Back in her house, she blew the dust out of her frying pan and heated up the fire while she prepared the fish. She soon had them cooking nicely, with a few herbs sprinkled on top for flavor. When Snotlout returned, he found two properly-cooked fish on the table, one for him and one for her.

"Those smell good! Where did they come from?" he wondered.

"Oh, I have my little ways," she smiled.

"You stole them?" he burst out. "Babe, if I wasn't so hungry, I'd tell you to give them back." But he was quite hungry, so he sat down and devoured his meal with great gusto. "Whoever the cook was, tell her she's good," he said as he finished.

"If I can find a way to do that without giving away my secret, I will," she nodded, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

He stood, burped, looked around, and suddenly stared at her. "Hey, _you_ cooked these, didn't you? Admit it!"

"Why would you say that?" she asked innocently.

"Because I can see the dirty frying pan," he answered, pleased with himself that he'd done something clever. She mentally kicked herself – she should have done a better job of hiding the evidence! "Anyway, it was really good, and I appreciate that you cooked for me. Are you finally figuring out how a Berk wife is supposed to treat her husband?"

"Do you want to get hit in the head with that frying pan?" she snapped. "I did this for you because I don't want to hear you complaining about being hungry for the rest of the day, not because I'm turning into your ideal little housewife. Got that?"

"Sure, babe, no problem," he smirked. "As long as you do the right thing, I don't care what your reasons are."

She fought the urge to wipe that smirk off his face. "Well, here are two things you can care about, you acephalous lackwit. One, I am never, never, _never_ going to measure up to your precious Jorgenson ideals for what a wife ought to be, so just forget about that and do us both a favor. Two, if you _ever_ mention this to your father, or anyone else for that matter, you'll be sleeping on the floor! Got _that?_"

"Hey! Who are you calling 'acepha-less'?" he demanded. "I'm more acepha-more than anybody on _your_ stupid island!" When she broke up laughing, he clenched a fist, then unclenched it and stormed out of the house. He wandered aimlessly around the town, not wanting to deal with anybody, but he eventually bumped into the last person he wanted to bump into – his father.

"How's married life, son?" Spitelout asked.

"Oh, it's real great," Snotlout muttered.

Spitelout completely missed the sarcasm. "Have you had a chance to enjoy her cooking yet?"

"Yeah," his son admitted. "She's a good cook."

"Good," the father smiled. "It sounds like you're making some progress on putting her in her place. Keep up the good work, son. You'll make the Jorgensons proud eventually." He went on his way, oblivious to his son's mood.

At supper, Snotlout sat next to his wife in the Mead Hall, but barely said a word through the whole meal. When they returned to the house, Su closed the door and said, "We need to talk."

"Oh, here it comes," he sighed as he rolled his eyes.

"Sit down, please," she suggested as she took a seat by the fire. He folded his arms defiantly, leaned against the wall, and yelped when he leaned against his spiked mace.

"Fine, stand up if you want to," she snapped. "We need to get a few things straight between us, once and for all. Just because I do something nice for you, that doesn't mean I'm turning into your idea of the perfect little wife."

"Just like, when I do something nice for you, that doesn't mean I'm turning into _your_ idea of the perfect little husband, right?" he snapped back.

That took the wind out of the sails of her argument. It was true – he'd patiently waited on her when she was sick, and he'd helped her find her dragon. But he remained as defiant and stubborn as ever. Just like her.

"Okay," she said hesitantly. "So maybe we can both be nice to each other without surrendering. Honestly, I wasn't expecting that."

After a moment, he sat down next to her. She expected him to put his arm around her shoulder, or put some other kind of move on her, but he folded his hands and stared straight ahead. "Can I tell you something, princess?" he asked nervously. "You can't repeat this to anybody."

"My lips are sealed," she nodded. This discussion was off the rails already; _now_ where was it going?

"I kind of like the way things are working out between us," he said, "even though we haven't settled on who's the boss yet. I'm starting to think we're _never_ going to settle that." He turned to face her; his expression was almost tender. "I like you. A lot. If there's any way I can make you happy without being a traitor to my clan traditions, I'll do it." He took a deep breath. "I might even do it if my ancestors _don't_ approve. They don't have to live with you. I do. Just go easy on the 'girls are better' stuff, okay?"

Her mother had prepared her for this moment, she had him right where she wanted him… and she realized that she just didn't _want_ to close the trap on him.

"I like the way things are, too," she said, slowly, expecting him to leap at the opportunity she was giving him. He sat and listened. She went on. "I like you. It's kind of fun to do things for you and watch you smile. I've spent my whole life preparing to get married so I could run things. But… forgive me, Mother… I'm kind of happy with not being the boss, as long as you aren't the boss, either." She took a deep breath. "Do you think a marriage can work that way?"

"It's never been done that way among the Jorgensons," he said, "but Hiccup and Astrid do things that way, and it works for them. Of course, they're both really different from us."

"Of course," she nodded. "It's never been done that way in my tribe, either. I think we're talking about a permanent truce."

"Yeah," he nodded, and sat silently for a few seconds. "Whenever one of us tries to be in charge, we make each other miserable. When we just work together, we're happy together." He held out his hand. "Permanent truce?" She clasped his hand, expecting him to pull her in for a kiss, but he just returned the clasp. "Of course, we can never tell _any_ of our parents about this."

Su imagined her mother's reaction, and nodded. "We'll never tell anyone. It's going to be our little secret."

"We've got a lot of little secrets between us," he said with a touch of nervousness. "We might get in some real trouble if anybody finds out."

"I'm used to being in trouble," she said casually. "If it means I can be happy, I'll risk it."


	24. Chapter 24

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 24

Two nights later, Madguts and his Murderous tribe came.

The Murderous Vikings didn't fight like most Vikings did. In a conventional raid, if the attackers didn't surprise their victims, the two sides would form lines and throw spears and other sharp objects at each other until one side gained an advantage. If the attackers gained the edge, the defenders would scatter and the raiders would take whatever plunder they could find; if the defenders were winning, the surviving attackers would retreat and go home. Madguts didn't fight that way. He and his raiders spread out through the town in an undisciplined mob rush, outflanking Berk's defensive line, which quickly broke up into smaller parties who tried to resist the onslaught as best they could. There was no coherent battle, just a series of skirmishes and duels in the darkness, where the rule was "every man for himself."

Stoick and Spitelout formed a team of the first seven Vikings they could find, including Astrid, and set out to scour the town. They easily mowed down every Murderous they saw, and they added a few more Vikings to their team as the night went on. But their team could be in only one place at a time, and the Murderous were everywhere. Berk's dragons helped where they could, but their humans were so closely engaged with the raiders, there was no way for a dragon to flame an enemy without flaming a friend as well. Most of them took to the rooftops and let the humans fight, unless their human friends' homes were threatened. As for the raiders, they hadn't come to fight dragons anyway. They'd come to fight Vikings and steal their livestock. Most of them focused on their goal with complete single-mindedness.

Snotlout and Sukiaqui had started the battle side by side, but were soon separated, and lost track of each other in the confusion and the darkness. Snotlout attached himself to Mulch and Bucket, who were beset by four Murderous warriors and needed all the help they could get. For all his muddle-headed ways, Bucket was a surprisingly ferocious fighter when his friend was threatened. He knocked out two of their assailants with blows to the head (ironic?), Mulch and Snotlout teamed up to wound and capture a third, and the fourth one broke and ran away.

Sukiaqui had joined Phlegma the Fierce, and they spent a few anxious minutes looking for someone to fight. Then they found one… or, to be correct, six of them at once. Su threw her axe at one of them; it embedded itself in his shield without doing him any harm. Phlegma tried to spear another, but a third one swung his club from behind and hit her in the head. She went down. Now it was Su against six.

"Ooh, she's a pretty one!" the leader leered.

"I'd hit that," said the one with the scar on his cheek, "and I wouldn't use my axe!"

"We'll have to sell her in the slave markets when we get home," his one-eyed friend agreed, "but maybe we can have a little fun with her first."

"Yeah! Fun!" the biggest one grunted. He was a slow-moving mountain of a man who wore moose antlers instead of cow's horns on his helmet. "You have fun with us, pretty girl?"

"I'd rather die," she retorted shakily, and she meant it. But she'd thrown away her axe; all she had left was her daggers, and they wouldn't do much harm to six determined men.

"Maybe we'll give you your wish," the leader winked, "but probably not. Live girls are a lot more fun than dead ones." He took a step toward her, then cried "Ook!" and collapsed on the ground. Snotlout leaped past him, his mace already raised for another blow, and stood beside his wife.

"Now we're _both_ surrounded," she muttered.

"We're surrounded by targets, so we can't miss!" he retorted. "Besides, I'm not letting you go to Valhalla without me. I'm a Jorgenson!"

"Now we'll have to kill him before we can get to her," the one-eyed one said to the biggest one. "I _hate_ having to do extra work."

"Kill," the huge one grunted. "Me kill!" He swung his mace and chain over his head. Snotlout faked to his right, then jumped to his left, dodged the blow that would have flattened him if he'd gone right, spun, and caught the giant beside the head with a back-handed blow from his mace. The big man swayed but stayed on his feet. Snotlout hit him on the other side of the head with a two-handed blow. The big man fell backwards and went down, as if in slow motion.

Snotlout's moves were impressive, but (as usual) they left him wide open to an attack from behind. One of the other Murderous raiders raised his spear, drew it back for a thrust… and cried out as he fell, with one of Su's daggers driven firmly into his back. Snotlout heard that cry, turned quickly, and saw the one-eyed one preparing to run Sukiaqui through with his sword. The Murderous Viking was too far away for Snotlout to hit with his mace, so in desperation, he threw it. The mace spun end-over-end through the air until its head connected with the head of its target. The man's eye rolled back, his knees buckled, and down he went. "Yeah!" Snotlout shouted. "Just like throwing my sword on my wedding day!"

Now he had no weapon. Su tossed him her last dagger and drew her boot knife, but those tiny blades didn't seem very imposing against two adult Vikings armed for battle.

"That's my brother you just hit," one of them snarled. "I owe you for that."

"If you're brothers, then I won't play favorites," Snotlout growled back. "I'll give you the same treatment I gave him."

"Two men against a boy and a girl?" the second one scoffed. "Our Gothi will read the future from your entrails, boy, and your girl friend… woo-hoo, the fun we'll have with her!"

"Over my dead body!" Lout shouted.

"Yeah, you've got it! That's the idea!" the first one said as he brandished his double-bladed axe.

Then the ground just behind them erupted in a dark-green splash. Both Murderous screamed in agony and forgot all about the battle. In a way, they were lucky – if they'd been facing the other direction, the Changewing's acid would have splashed in their faces. As it was, they had to quickly pull off their armor and clothing to get the acid away from their skin, and by the time they'd finished, Snotlout and Sukiaqui had knives at their throats.

"Give me a reason, any reason at all, to kill you right here," Snotlout growled. "I'll even take a bad reason. You threatened my wife, and that makes me mad. _Really_ mad!" The two invaders surrendered instead. Snotlout's disappointment was obvious.

Then three more Murderous Vikings appeared out of the darkness, all carrying spears. "Take 'em down!" their leader shouted as they prepared to throw. Neither Snotlout nor Sukiaqui had a shield.

"Get behind me, princess," Lout said quietly. He rested a hand on her shoulder and began to step in front of her.

Then they heard a rising whistle from overhead. "No, get down!" Lout shouted, and pulled Su to the ground. A moment later, a purple blast sent the three Murderous flying through the air. Two of them got up again slowly and ran away into the night. Snotlout looked up into the sky and shook his fist. "You didn't have to do that, Hiccup! I had everything under control!"

Su shook her head. Battle obviously brought out the Neanderthal in her husband. But she could scarcely fault him for wanting to protect her, and she couldn't deny that he'd done a pretty good job of it, considering the odds against them.

She reclaimed her weapon from the shield of one of the fallen men while Snotlout tied up their prisoners. By that time, the battle was just about over. About half of the raiders were either dead, wounded, or unconscious. The others fled back to their ships and rowed away with little or no plunder. _Someone_ did some plundering that night, but no one knew who it was. When the Vikings of Berk searched their prisoners afterward, they found surprisingly little in the way of money or other valuables on them. Some of them had clearly worn earrings until very recently, but there was no sign of their gold and silver jewelry now. Stoick suspected Sukiaqui, but no one had seen her doing anything (it was a dark night), so no one could make a charge against her.

She made sure to seek out Hiccup at breakfast and thank him for his timely rescue. "How did you find me and Snotlout in the dark?" she wondered.

He swallowed. "Once I knew that Astrid was in good company, I told Toothless to track you instead. He has great night vision." He stared at the floor and blinked hard. "I've already watched one fine lady die in a raid. Never again." Obviously, there was a story there; she'd find out about it later. She touched his shoulder, thanked him again, and rejoined her husband.

"Maybe you were a little too greedy," Snotlout suggested as they ate their breakfast together. "If you'd just taken a few bits of loot here and there, no one would have noticed. Now the chief is suspicious of you."

"They were just prisoners, not Berk Vikings like us," she shrugged, and did her best to look innocent. "No harm, no foul."

"Anyway, isn't it about time for you to tell me how awesome I am because I came to your rescue?" he asked.

"Awesome might be too strong a word," she thought out loud. "You did rescue me, though, so thank you. But you still haven't learned to watch your back!"

"I don't have to worry about my back anymore, princess," he answered lightly. "I know _you're_ there."

He was admitting, right up front, that he trusted her with his life?

After a moment, she threw her arms around him and kissed the daylights out of him, right in the middle of the Mead Hall. Everyone except Hiccup and Astrid looked away in embarrassment. That pair just glanced at each other, nodded, and smiled.

**o**

_A/N  
>Those of you who have read "Hiccup's Bride" probably read this chapter and were afraid that I was going to do the same thing to Sukiaqui that I did to Thora. Aren't you glad I didn't? (I try not to do the same thing twice; that would be boring and predictable.)<em>


	25. Chapter 25

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 25

The next few weeks were almost uneventful. Snotlout decided that he would give Sukiaqui some help in training her dragon. After the Changewing nearly got into a fight with Barf and Belch, Hiccup quietly began giving Su some _real_ help in training Spotwing. There were no more dragon-on-dragon incidents after that. Spotwing remained slightly nervous around the other dragons, but at least she was willing to enter the training ring with them now. (She would promptly camouflage herself against the stone wall, though, so the riders had to take it on faith that she was actually there.)

Su's beadwork lessons with her neighbors were successful, and popular. She had to limit the numbers of pupils she took on, and soon had to require them to obtain their own beads – she could no longer afford to give them away. (This made Trader Johann happy; he could now buy all the beads his supplier would sell, with the knowledge that he'd be able to resell them all for a profit.) Stoick stopped by her house one afternoon and congratulated her on introducing a new craft, and a useful one, to his village. He made sure to check his money pouch after he left.

Word reached Su that her cousin Terryaki, the daughter of Aunt Chelsea, had successfully made an engagement to Thuggory, future chief of the Meathead tribe. That meant there would be another wedding soon; Su might even be asked to serve as one of the bride's attendants. She began doing some homework on the Meatheads. Would they be ripe targets for burglary during the wedding reception party? Yes, they probably would.

Snotlout went about his usual routine of dragon training, weapons practice, and hunting trips. He served Berk as a warrior, not as a tradesman; he served no apprenticeship and called no one "master," and as long as he brought in some game now and then, and as long as he did his part when raiders attacked, all was well. That was a good thing; the idea of calling someone else "master" bothered him anyway. It was part of being a Jorgenson.

The rest of the village noticed that there weren't any visible problems in Snotlout and Sukiaqui's home, so they all nodded, called it a good marriage, and focused on Astrid's belly instead. She was nowhere close to showing a baby bump, but the women of the village couldn't wait to see the evidence that their future chief would be arriving soon. (They all assumed it would be a boy.) Astrid was irritated, to say the least, at her perceived demotion from warrior woman to baby-producer, and she tended to avoid the women who viewed her as nothing but a womb with legs. That included Ruffnut, who insisted on calling her "Mommy" at every opportunity. Remarkably, she found a friend in Su, who couldn't care less about who was pregnant and who wasn't. They took to flying their dragons in the afternoon together. Spotwing seemed to be slightly less afraid of Stormfly than of the other dragons; maybe it was because they were both female.

Spitelout never missed a chance to remind his son of his clan's proud tradition of subjugating women, and kept asking how his son was doing in that department. Snotlout made excuses and told half-truths about his situation, and as long as Spitelout heard what he wanted to hear, he was content. But the stress of living a double life was beginning to tell on Snotlout, and that bothered his wife. She decided to even the score on his behalf, and that was how the big confrontation began.

It was a simple thing, and the consequences should have been minor. All she did was burgle her father-in-law's house at night and make off with his favorite bludgeon. She planned to give it back in a few days; she wanted to teach him some humility, nothing more. But when he realized his weapon had vanished, he hit the roof. He stormed over to Snotlout's house and hammered on the door with his fist until his son answered.

"Where is it?" Spitelout demanded

"Where is what?" his son asked, confused.

"My bludgeon!" the father exploded. "Your thieving wife took it! Admit it!"

"I don't know anything about that," Snotlout said defensively, and that was the truth.

"Well, where is she?"

"I guess she's flying her dragon with Astrid, Dad. They do that a lot."

Spitelout scowled. "You give that girl way too much freedom. She's supposed to stay in the house, doing woman's work. If you aren't careful, she's going to wind up running your whole life, and probably _ruining_ your whole life!"

"You don't need to worry about that," Snotlout answered. "I've taken some steps to make sure that will _never_ happen." That part was also true; he was referring to their permanent truce.

"Maybe not," his father growled, "but it still bothers me when I don't see her in the kitchen. You say she's a good cook?"

"Yes, for sure," Lout nodded. "When she cooks, it's better than the food in the Mead Hall." That had happened exactly once so far, but it was still the truth.

"I'm glad to hear it," Spitelout nodded, "because it's long past the time when you should have invited your parents over for a meal. Your mother is visiting her relatives, and I've got no one to do the cooking for me tonight, so I'll be joining you for supper. Is there a problem with that?"

Snotlout shook his head mutely. He could think of all kinds of problems with that, but his father was still angry and it never paid to contradict him when he was in that frame of mind.

"Good," the bigger man snapped. "I'll see you at supper time. I'll be hungry, so it better be good!" He turned and stormed off without another word.

When Su returned about an hour later, Snotlout broke the news to her. "_WHAT__?!_" she exploded. "Supper time is only a couple of hours away! What have you committed me to?"

"He was mad about his bludgeon being missing," Lout explained lamely. "I can't argue with him when he's mad."

Su thought fast. She realized that she'd help provoke this situation, so she couldn't be too hard on Snotlout. "Okay, I can probably whip up some baked fish on short notice. But there is no way under Valhalla that I can cook _and_ get this house cleaned up so it's fit for guests. So guess what, Snotlout? You get to help with the cleaning."

"No way!" he retorted, folding his arms. "I'm a fighter, not a cleaner."

"If you want your father to eat tonight, then you have two choices," she replied, trying not to lose her cool. "Either you do the cooking, or you do the cleaning. If you do neither, then I will also do neither, and we'll see how mad your dad gets when he goes hungry tonight!"

"That's not fair!" he protested.

"It's perfectly fair!" she shot back. "_I_ can't do everything at once, _you_ made the agreement with him, and he's your father, not mine. Do you think you can learn to cook in time to make him a meal tonight? Or would you rather start by sweeping the floor?"

He started to storm out of the house indignantly… and stopped. He started to explode at such an unreasonable request… and stopped. He flapped his arms uselessly at his side and racked his brain for a suitable comeback… and came up empty. He let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. What do I do?"

"Do you see that broom in the corner?"

He looked. "Yeah."

"Do you see that dirt on the floor?"

He looked. "No."

She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Aaargh! What is it about men and dirt? You wouldn't see it if it was right on the end of your nose! Just sweep the whole floor, and make a pile of the sweepings next to the door; I'll take care of it. I have to go buy some fish and some vegetables. If you finish before I get back, then hide your dirty boots under the bed, hang all your weapons and shields on the pegs on the wall, and bring in some extra firewood; I'll need it for cooking." She rested her hand on his cheek for a moment. "I don't like doing things this way, either, but we both knew this day was going to come. We'll get through it together, and then we can relax and go back to our truce." She kissed him quickly, and then she was out the door, headed for the market.

He began sweeping. With each swipe of the broom, he imagined another ancestor rolling over in his barrow at the sight of a Jorgenson doing woman's work. After about a dozen sweeps, he lost count. At that point, he figured it didn't matter anymore.

They hurried through their preparations for the evening, not knowing when their guest was going to arrive. The knowledge that Spitelout was coming made them nervous. If they'd known the whole story, they would have been even more nervous. Tonight was also the night that Bertha had chosen for a surprise visit to her daughter and her son-in-law. She was curious how well-domesticated Snotlout was, and she'd decided to find out. She was a little early for supper, but she figured that was okay – it would give them a little time to greet each other, catch up on the news, and make any necessary adjustments to their supper plans. Besides, the Vikings didn't have any way to communicate quickly across long distances; there was no way for her to tell them in advance that she was coming.

Spitelout left his house a little earlier than usual. It wasn't time for supper yet, but he figured he could sit and relax for a while until the meal was ready. He was quite surprised to see Bertha headed for the same house he was headed for.

"Big… I mean, Bertha… what a pleasant surprise," he muttered. "No one told me you were coming tonight."

"No one knew," she smiled. "It's a surprise, for them at least. I just wanted to drop by and see how the Berk section of my family is doing."

"Oh," he shrugged, and gestured to the door. "Okay. Ladies first?"

"No, let the weaker sex go first," she replied.

He began to lose his temper – he'd had a bad day anyway – but he mastered himself. He remembered how badly he'd fared the last time he'd gone head-to-head with this woman. "Together, then?" She nodded, he pushed the door open, they both stepped inside…

…and stared in horror at the sight of Sukiaqui, caught in the act of seasoning the fish, and Snotlout, caught in the act of setting out the plates and mugs on the table.


	26. Chapter 26

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 26

Both parents' eyes narrowed as they glared at their offspring. Both Snotlout and Sukiaqui had been caught doing domestic work that, according to their traditions and their upbringing, was the other spouse's job. That might not seem like a big deal to someone reading about these events in the far-distant future, but to Spitelout and Bertha, their entire culture was hanging on the line. Their children were in big trouble, and they knew it. Su managed a feeble, "Hi, Mom." Snotlout just gulped.

Bertha leaned toward her daughter. "Young lady, I think you and I need to have a little talk."

Spitelout was more terse. "You. Me. Outside. Now." Snotlout put down the plates and mutely followed his father through the open door. Spitelout slammed it shut.

Bertha opened her mouth, but Su cut her off with an upraised hand. "Mother, before you say a word, I think you need to hear what my husband is going through." The chief of the Bog-Burglars nodded slowly, and they both put their ears to the door.

They heard Spitelout took a deep breath and begin. "I do not appreciate being lied to, young man."

"Dad, I never told you any lies!" Snotlout pleaded. "I just –"

"But even more than that," his father interrupted, "I do not like seeing my son betray everything I ever stood for. Generations of Jorgensons are looking down on you from Valhalla, and do you think they like what they see? I don't think so."

"I thought, once you got to Valhalla, you were too busy fighting and drinking to –"

"_Enough!_" Spitelout roared. "No backtalk, boy! You just listen! I have spent my entire _life_ training you to follow in my footsteps, just like my father trained me to follow in his footsteps. It's a proud tradition that is older than Berk. I thought you were getting the idea, after training the biggest dragon on the island and winning all those Thawfest medals. But now, I find you doing the exact _opposite_ of everything I ever taught you! Rebelling against our family tradition! Bringing shame to the name of Jorgenson! You make me wonder if you really _are_ a Jorgenson! Do you understand what I'm saying, Snotlout?"

"No," his son said weakly.

"Then I'll spell it out for you," Spitelout hissed. "You are going to make a choice, right here, right now. Either you are going to march back into that house, put a broom in your wife's hand, and put her in her place, or I am going to disown you. You will have no family, you will have no clan, you will have no inheritance, and you will have no future."

"You'd do that to me just because I set out a few plates?" Snotlout's voice was nearly inaudible.

"It's the principle of the thing," Spitelout said dogmatically. "Either you're the head of your house or you're not. Either you're going to act like a Jorgenson or you're not. Either you're going to _be_ a Jorgenson or you're not. Which is it? You decide. Now."

In the sudden silence, Bertha turned to her daughter. "Is that normal for those two?" she whispered. Su nodded somberly. Her mother shook her head in disbelief.

The two women darted away from the door as it swung open, and tried not to look guilty. Snotlout slowly walked over to the corner of the house, picked up the broom, and brought it to Su.

"Can you hold this?" he asked. She took it hesitantly. He removed his helmet, scratched an itch on his head, put the helmet back on, and reclaimed the broom. "Thanks, princess," he smiled, winked, and put it back in the corner.

"Do you think this is some kind of joke?" Spitelout snapped from the doorway. "Does being a Jorgenson mean nothing to you?"

Snotlout faced his father and braced himself. "Dad, being a Jorgenson never meant anything to me except extra stress, extra work, and trying to measure up to an impossible standard. I trained my dragon and won those Thawfest medals because _I'm_ awesome, not because of what my last name is."

"It's that name that _makes_ you awesome!" his father burst out. "And if you lose that name, it will make you _nothing!_"

"That name never made me happy," Snotlout retorted. He walked over to Sukiaqui and took her hand. "She makes me happy, sometimes without even trying. We've worked out a way of being married that works for both of us, even though it's not what you taught me, and it's not what her mother taught her, either. If I have to choose between living your way and living to be happy…" He gave her hand a squeeze, which she gratefully returned. "I'd rather be happy."

"Do you know how much money you're giving up when you throw your inheritance away?" his father asked in disbelief.

"All your money can't buy one smile from my wife," Snotlout retorted. "If you want me to make a choice, then I've made it. You got this wife for me, and I… like her a lot, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her, and keep her happy. You can't put a price tag on that."

"Seven generations of Jorgensons are screaming with rage at you from beyond the grave!" Spitelout shouted.

Snotlout almost shouted back as he answered, "Seven generations of Jorgensons had their chance at life, and they lived their lives _their_ way. Now it's my turn, and I'm going to live my life _my_ way. Not their way, and not your way. _My_ way!"

"Son, you truly disappoint me," Spitelout said sadly.

"I'm sorry about that, Dad," his son replied, "but I don't live with you anymore. I live with her. If I can't make both of you happy, then I choose her." He paused. "I have to."

"Then I'll do what _I_ have to do," the father said sternly, and folded his arms. "From this day forward, you are not a Jorgenson. You cannot use that proud name for yourself or your children. You cannot represent the family in any events or celebrations. You cannot join us in public or in private. You cannot expect any help from us, no matter what may happen to you. And you can say goodbye, forever, to your chances of becoming chief of this tribe. I will find an orphan from another tribe, adopt him as my heir, and teach him to be the man you refuse to be. Those are my final words to you. I hope they echo in your ears for the rest of your useless life. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to figure out how to explain to your mother that she doesn't have a son anymore." He turned and strode away, leaving the door open, and leaving Snotlout, Sukiaqui, and Bertha standing in shocked silence.

After the space of a few breaths, Bertha finally found her voice. "Forget about the little talk, Su. I'd feel very foolish, trying to scold you after seeing a display like that." She turned to Snotlout. "That was very noble and brave of you. It was my daughter, not me, who chose you, and I had my doubts at first, but I can see she picked a really good man. I fully approve of you as a son-in-law; you'll never be put out of _my_ family. I realize that may not mean very much to you right now, but it needs to be said." Snotlout just nodded numbly.

"I probably ought to go," Bertha continued. "I wasn't expecting a scene like this when I dropped by. Honestly, I didn't think I'd _ever_ see a scene like this. You two obviously have some things to talk about. I'll leave you alone." She kissed her daughter on the cheek, slipped out, closed the door behind her, and returned to her ship.

Sukiaqui turned to face her husband. "Now what?"

"I guess we should eat that fish you cooked," he shrugged.

"How can you think about food at a time like this?" she demanded.

"What else can we do?" he wondered. "My dad isn't going to change his mind no matter what we do, I know the fish will taste great, we've got plenty now, and all that sweeping made me hungry."

"Snotlout, you are impossible," she burst out, then hugged him tight. "And I love you for it. This all started when I stole your father's bludgeon; I'm sorry I made all this trouble for you."

He returned the hug. "It's okay, princess," he smiled, feeling himself turning red. "Something like this was bound to happen sometime. Actually, it all started when you stole my heart."

"Snotlout, from you, that's almost poetic!"

"Yeah," he said, blushing even redder. "But don't you _ever_ tell _anybody_ I said that!"

She knew what he really meant. "I'll keep it as another one of our little secrets," she whispered in his ear. "Even though half of our little secrets aren't so secret anymore." By the time they ended their embrace, the fish had cooled to room temperature. They ate in subdued silence.

"You've lost everything," she said at last.

"Everything but you," he replied quietly. All the cockiness was gone from his voice.

"Was it worth it?" she asked.

"Are you worth it? You've got to be kidding," he said, and reached across the table to hold her hand.


	27. Chapter 27

**Snotlout's Bride ** Chapter 27

The newlyweds got up slowly the next morning, not sure what their next move should be. They didn't want to eat breakfast in the Mead Hall because they knew Spitelout would be there, and they didn't want another scene in public. They settled on bowls of oatmeal in their house – after the debacle with the fish, they'd made sure they kept something edible on the shelves in case of emergency. Snotlout watched Su as she mixed in the water and the yak's milk.

"That doesn't look so hard," he commented.

"It isn't hard," she nodded. "I bet you could make it. If you really had to."

"I hope I don't have to," he shrugged, "but yeah, I could probably do something like that, if I was starving or something."

Their meal was interrupted by a firm knocking on the door. Snotlout opened it hesitantly, and found his parents standing in front of his house. "Your father has something he wants to say to you," his mother said firmly, and nudged Spitelout with her elbow.

"Uhh… maybe I was a little too hasty in what I said to you yesterday," Spitelout said reluctantly.

"Go on," Saybull demanded.

"And, uhh… I take it all back. You're still a Jorgenson and you're still part of the family."

"_And…?_" she threatened.

"And, uhh…" He paused; she elbowed him again. "I'm sorry."

Snotlout was speechless. In the awkward silence that followed, Su finally said, "We're willing to let bygones be bygones. I know I'm glad to still be part of such an amazing family." She reached under the bed and pulled out a bludgeon. "I... kind of... found this lying around someplace. This isn't yours, is it?" Spitelout snatched it out of her hands with a scowl.

"Once the dust from this little misunderstanding has settled," Saybull smiled, "you'll be invited to our house for supper. I'd like to get to know my new daughter-in-law better, and I'm sure my husband does, too. Right, dear?" He nodded unhappily.

"Oh, didn't you have a meeting with Stoick this morning?" she asked him. He nodded with much more enthusiasm and took off toward the chief's house at a run. Saybull turned back to her son.

"Part of being a Jorgenson is making hard decisions and standing by them when you know you're going to pay a price for it," she said earnestly. "I married into the family, and I've learned that lesson. You did it as though it came naturally to you, and I don't care what my husband says – what you did yesterday was in the best Jorgenson tradition. Our ancestors are proud of you." She faced her daughter. "You must be an amazing lady, to inspire my son to stand up to his father like that. I really would like to get to know you better. But… can you arrange it so my husband's belongings don't wander away anymore? That sort of thing really makes him hot under the collar."

"I'll try," she said, without a trace of self-consciousness.

"Good," Saybull replied. "I've got all kinds of household chores to do, so I have to get back home. Don't be afraid to drop by and visit." She kissed her son on the cheek, turned, and headed for home.

Again, the departure of one of Snotlout's parents left the new couple in shock.

"Okay, I wasn't expecting that," he finally said. "Not even a little."

"Me, neither," she agreed. "Maybe we aren't the only Jorgensons who are living with a permanent truce... and the occasional misunderstanding."

"Dad mentioned something like that when he got us engaged," he nodded. "I wish he'd told me more about that, and less about family ideals that don't work in real life. So... what do we do now?"

"I guess we're back to normal," she thought out loud. "Our oatmeal is cold by now, so let's ride our dragons instead." They were both out the door in moments. Su looked all around, and finally focused on the roof. "Spotwing! There you are! Come on down; let's go flying!"

"Where?" Snotlout asked. "I can't see anything."

"I'm getting used to her camouflage," Su answered. "If I'm in familiar surroundings, I can usually see where she is, even if she's hiding." The dragon appeared on the roof a moment later, spread her wings, and glided down to the ground, where Su climbed on board while her husband ran for the training ring. She got there just before he did, Spotwing circled while he jumped onto his own dragon, and they rose up to the clouds together.

Snotlout glanced at his bride and shook his head. "You can actually see a hidden Changewing? Is there anything you can't do?"

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "since I moved to this island, I can't seem to burgle anything without causing a disaster. Maybe Astrid was right. Maybe I should find some other way to live. But I don't have any idea what that might be."

"You're pretty good with those beads," he observed. "Maybe that could be your role in the village – making bead crafts and teaching other people how to do it. It's something new for us, it's something we can use, and I won't object because it's woman's work."

She felt her pockets for something she could throw at him, but she didn't have anything. "When we get back on the ground, I'm going to hit you!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises," he smiled. "But, seriously, maybe you shouldn't totally quit the Bog-Burglar thing. I mean, it keeps life interesting. We need somebody to stir things up on this boring little island, sometimes."

"Even if it gets you put out of your own family now and then?" she asked.

"I'll chance it," he nodded. "You're worth it." He blew her a kiss. She whispered something in Spotwing's ear, and the dragon blew a small blob of green acid back at him. It wasn't remotely close enough to endanger him or his dragon, but he ducked anyway.

"Hey! What was that for?" he demanded.

"You're the one who doesn't want a boring life, right?" she shouted back happily. "I swear by Nocha, from now until the day you die, 'boring' is one thing I will _never_ give you!"

"Excellent!" he answered. "After all, I'm Snotlout. I deserve the best."

_And I've __got__ her,_ he thought.

_THE END_

**o**

_Epilog:_  
>Timeline of events. The number at the start of each line is Snotlout's age at that time.<p>

0: Snotlout is born to Spitelout and Saybull. Hiccup and his other friends are also born that year, as is Camicazi.

2: Sukiaqui is born.

15: Snotlout helps kill the Red Death and trains Hookfang.

18: All the events in this story take place.

19: Astrid gives Hiccup a daughter, Edda. A few weeks later, Su announces that she's pregnant. Snotlout struts around town like a peacock for months.

20: Su gives birth to a son, Sloblout. Snotlout struts even more proudly, especially because Astrid had given birth to "just" a daughter. His strutting abruptly ends on the day he has to change a diaper for the first time.

21: Su and Astrid help Bertha train a Gronckle, whom she names Lavagirl. To Bertha's embarrassment, she later has to change the name to Lavaboy. (I guess those Gronckles are really hard to tell apart.) Some members of her tribe object to her riding a male dragon, but she has grown attached to him and ignores the complainers.

22: Su gives birth to another boy, Stinklout. Snotlout bets Stoick twenty-five silver coins that she will break the Berk record by giving her husband four healthy sons in a row.

23: Su and Bertha, with Spotwing and Lavaboy, successfully burgle the Golden Helmet of Mambrino from the Berserkers, then sneak it into Camicazi's room. Cami returns from another unsuccessful bid to steal the Helmet, only to find it sitting on her bed. This causes much confusion, which Su enjoys from a distance.

24: Snotlout makes one last half-hearted attempt to put Su in her place. She whacks him on the head with his own helmet, then goes about her chores as though nothing had happened. When Snotlout wakes up an hour later, he decides he'll stick to their agreement for a lifetime truce.

25: Su gives birth to a third son, Scumlout. Stoick doubles down on his bet with Snotlout.

26: Bertha's leg is badly injured by a spear when the Murderous Vikings raid her island. Unable to walk without a cane, she decides to step down from the chieftainship. Camicazi takes her place as Chief of the Bog-Burglars.

27: Su gives birth to a fourth son, Swaglout; Snotlout wins his bet with the chief. Stoick tells Snotlout he doesn't have to pay because Swaglout is small and doesn't qualify as a "healthy" son. Five nights later, the chief's ceremonial belt with the gold buckle mysteriously disappears, and later turns up among the Bog-Burglar tribe's stolen prizes. Stoick demands that Chief Camicazi give it back; she refuses, saying "Finders keepers," without being 100% sure how it got there. She also suggests that the loss of his belt might be the gods' judgment on him for something he did wrong. He finally agrees to pay the fifty silver coins to Snotlout, at which point Su enlists the other dragon-riders to create a diversion while she steals Stoick's belt back. The chief is never able to prove Sukiaqui's role in any of this. Cami finds the whole thing mildly amusing.

28: Stoick steps down and allows Hiccup to become chief of Berk. Snotlout talks it over with Su and takes her advice not to challenge him.

29: Chief Cami finally learns exactly how her sister stole their mother's ceremonial helmet, and recommends that the tribal elders consider Su for addition to the Big Book of Burglaries. The vote is 4-0 in favor (with Bertha abstaining).

31: Camicazi announces that she likes her life just fine the way it is, and she intends to never marry. This means she will produce no heir. The Bog-Burglars suddenly besiege Su and Snotlout with marriage offers for their oldest son Sloblout – the girl who marries Bertha's oldest grandson will have a strong claim to become the future Bog-Burglar chief. Su handles most of the negotiations, but Lout demands a reverse bride-price as part of the deal (Hiccup suggested it as a joke, and Snotlout thought it was a great idea). The results: Sloblout is engaged to a high-ranking Bog-Burglar warrior girl named Beatrix the Buxom, with the marriage to occur in three years (he's still young), at which time Snotlout and Sukiaqui will become quite well-off financially. Sloblout isn't pleased at the thought of marrying a Bog-Burglar princess, but his father reassures him – "If I could do it, then you can do it. After all, we're Jorgensons."

34: As his final act as a citizen of Berk, Sloblout wins the Thawfest Games, continuing a long, proud Jorgenson tradition. Grandpa Spitelout is even prouder than Snotlout is.

? ?: Snotlout and Sukiaqui actually live happily ever after.

**o**

_A/N  
><em>_Here's how this story came about: a faithful reader named Haganeochibi sent me a review of "Lightning and Death Itself: First Contact," chapter 19. One of her comments was to wonder why Snotlout hadn't said anything about his impending engagement to Fluffernut. This was my reply:_

I hadn't thought it through, but you're right about Snotlout not reacting to his own engagement. The most likely reason for this is that he doesn't know about it yet. Remember, this engagement isn't official; the young people's fathers have to clasp hands on the deal first. That means there hasn't been a public announcement about it. Spitelout is definitely the kind of father who would sit down with his son and start the conversation by saying, "Congratulations, you're engaged." The only reason Ruff and Tuff know is that they probably eavesdropped on the conversation between Spitelout and Mr. Thorston – we know how sneaky they can be. As for Snotlout, he can be totally oblivious to what's going on around him, especially if events don't line up with the way he thinks they ought to be. He's probably hoping to go to the next Thing with his father and find a girl who's beautiful, Viking-like, and subservient. Fluff is pretty but not beautiful, she falls far short of the Viking ideal in terms of zeal for battle and resistance to pain, and she'll never kiss Snotlout's boots, or any other boy's boots for that matter. She's not his kind of girl; he's convinced he deserves better than her.

Hmmm, now you've got me thinking. What if I wrote "Snotlout's Bride," in which he gets the girl he deserves – in other words, a girl who's just like him? She'd be good-looking, strong-willed, warlike, fearless, self-centered, and reluctant to ever admit it when she's wrong. If they didn't kill each other in their first month of marriage, they might learn to be happy together, and they might even help each other become better people, as well as better Vikings. I'll have to think about that.

_I thought about it, and this story is the result._

_Even though Snotlout is the protagonist, this story is mostly told from Sukiaqui's point of view. That wasn't a conscious decision; it just came out that way, as the best way to tell the tale. The awkward romance between Lout and Su is the premise of the story, but the heart of the narrative is Snotlout's coming of age. His willingness to confront his father and disagree with him over Su is the moment when Snotlout becomes a man. He's still Snotlout and he still has a long way to go. But he has a patient, surprisingly understanding wife who wants to see him succeed, so he'll grow to be a reasonably mature adult. Some day. Definitely not today._

_Nocha is named after No Cha, the Chinese god of thieves (at least, according to an old Dungeons & Dragons book I used to own). Saybull got her name from Sable, an infamous woman wrestler. Naginatta comes from "naginata," a Japanese polearm. Peatcooker, the priest who conducted the spiritual part of the marriage ceremony, got his name from Peter Cook, who played The Impressive Clergyman in "The Princess Bride;" thus, the "mawwiage" reference._

_I also owe a quick "thank you" to Tasermon's Partner, for inspiring the line of thought that led to the part in the epilogue about Stoick's ceremonial belt._

_I'm always a little bit sad when I post the final chapter of a story. Part of me wants to keep it going, even though the rest of me knows I've finished telling the story I set out to tell, and if I kept going anyway, it would just be second-rate fluff. (Rarely, as in "Did Anybody See That?", the readers persuade me to write some more, and it works out well, but that is definitely the exception to the rule.) So this tale is over. I hope you liked it; it was certainly a lot of fun to write. Other tales beckon, though. You haven't seen the last of me!_


End file.
